Firewhisky Advice
by little0bird
Summary: Things are about to change for our intrepid hero! Takes place a few months after Snitches, Bubbles, and Pizza.
1. Wrong Dryer Setting

Ginny discarded yet another pair of trousers, to join the others on the floor. Maybe that skirt in the back she hadn't worn in months. It was wholly unflattering, but at this point, she was going to have to go to work in her pajamas. Nothing else fit. _No_, she said to herself, _I refuse to wear that skirt. It's hideous._ She must have been drunk when she bought it. Heaving a sigh, Ginny pulled out the last pair of jeans in the wardrobe. _I hope these fit. I really have to have a chat with Harry about the setting on the dryer._ Ginny held her breath, and tried to pull up the zipper. No luck. Gritting her teeth, she lay across the foot of the unmade bed, took a deep breath, and managed to haul the zipper up. Feeling rather like the button on the jeans was going to pop off and take out someone's eye if she took a deep breath, Ginny gingerly made her way into the kitchen. She didn't see how she could have gained that much weight since she stopped playing last spring. She wasn't even eating breakfast much anymore. Just toast lately.

Harry was at the stove, wearing her apron. She smothered a snicker. Mum had given it to her a couple of years ago. It was decidedly pink and flowery. Which was why Ginny never wore the bloody thing. 'Morning,' he said, without turning around.

'Morning,' she replied and wrinkled her nose at the porridge on the stove.

'What? I thought you liked porridge.' A hint of dismay crept into Harry's voice. On his days to cook breakfast the past few weeks, Ginny had turned up her nose at everything he tried.

'I do. Just not… today…' she said. Harry looked up at the tone of her voice.

'Do you feel all right?' he asked, peering at her. 'You look a little green around the edges.' He studied her face a bit more. 'Actually, you look like Ron did the morning after Fred's funeral, when he drank half a bottle of Firewhisky.' Ginny's stomach began to rebel.

'Don't mention Firewhisky right now, okay?' she said queasily. Harry just shrugged and handed her a plate of toast.

'Eat that at least. And no arguments, young lady, or I'll…'

'You'll what?'

'Set your mum on you,' Harry threatened. Ginny shuddered. That would mean lunch with Mum. Lunch with Mum meant more food than Ginny could possibly eat. Not that Mum wasn't a good cook, but there was only so much food one could eat at a single meal.

Ginny finished her toast and picked up her coat. Harry looked up from the _Prophet_ and reminded her they were having dinner with Ron and Hermione that evening. Ginny nodded, and Flooed to the office. She made a mental note to take an early lunch and go buy some new jeans or trousers. The ones she had managed to button that morning might not make it through a dinner.

Ginny hurried down the sidewalk, hands stuffed in the pockets of her coat. She didn't have much time. She pushed open the door to a Muggle shop and hastily grabbed a pair of jeans in her size. Ginny started to just pay for them and leave, but she thought she might as well try them on. She could wear them back to the office.

She found an empty cubicle and unfastened her jeans with a sigh. She took the first real deep breath since she had gotten dressed that morning. Wriggling out of her jeans, she pulled the new ones on and tried – and failed – to zip them. Ginny stared at the zipper in horror. She felt the sting of tears in her eyes and to her shock, began to cry. She pulled her wand out and quickly conjured a handkerchief. She eyed the jeans suspiciously. This pair definitely hadn't shrunk in the dryer. She briefly thought of performing an Engorgement charm on her jeans, but seeing as she was inside a Muggle shop, didn't want to take the chance.

Ginny gritted her teeth in annoyance, and hauled her jeans back into place, forgoing any zippers or buttons, and strode back to the shelf with the jeans she liked. Exhaling heavily through her nose, Ginny snatched a pair the next size up and all but stomped back to the cubicle. She tore her jeans off and pulled the new ones on in their place. She gave herself a hard look in the mirror. 'At least I can button these,' she said to herself. She walked back out of the cubicle, with her old jeans in hand. 'Excuse me, miss?' Ginny flagged down the attention of a salesclerk.

'Yeh?'

'Could I wear these out?' Ginny pinched a fold of the new jeans between her fingers.

'Sure thing, luv.' The salesclerk rang up the jeans. 'Summat wrong wi' the old 'uns, eh?'

'Erm. I suppose.' Ginny fiddled with the fraying hem of her worn jeans. She paid the clerk and went back outside.

Finding a deserted alley, Ginny turned and Apperated back to Diagon Alley. She checked her watch and grimaced at the time. She sprinted for the joke shop. George and Ron usually kept some food around in the upstairs flat for emergencies. She burst through the door, which belched to announce her arrival. It sounded suspiciously like Charlie after he drank a whole bottle of butterbeer in one go. Ron was sitting behind the front counter, absently chewing the end of a quill, a large ledger book in front of him. Ginny crept to the counter, as Ron still had yet to look up. 'Record Charlie at Dad's birthday party last year?' she asked casually. Ron jumped.

'Hah? Oh, Gin, it's just you.'

'Gee, thanks,' Ginny replied dryly. 'Look, Ron, I haven't much time, and I'm going to see you tonight at dinner anyway, but I know you have a sandwich back there somewhere.' She pointed to the lurid magenta curtain that led to the back room and the stairs the upstairs flat. 'Please? For your favorite sister?' Ginny used her best puppy-dog eyes.

'That doesn't work on me, Gin,' Ron snorted. But he muttered, '_Accio_', and a sandwich landed neatly on the counter in front of Ginny. 'Besides, you're my only sister.'

'Thanks, Ron. I really appreciate this.' Ron finally noticed the bundle Ginny carried under her arm.

'Ginny? Are those your jeans?'

Ginny sighed impatiently. 'Yes,' she said shortly. 'Harry's done something to the dryer.' Ron looked bemused. If there was one thing he didn't do, it was laundry. Inevitably, he put a red sock in the whites and Hermione and he wore pink until either Hermione or Molly could sort it out. 'Thanks for the sandwich, Ron.'

'Anytime.'

'See you later.' With that, Ginny hit the door, rolled her eyes at the belch, and headed for the _Prophet_ office.

Harry was waiting for Ginny when she came home. 'You're late!' he said, as she ran past him, into their bedroom.

'I know! I had to interview the head of the Department of Games and Sports about the World Cup and it went long!' she cried. 'That bloody man can _talk_! I think he just likes the sound of his voice. Less between his ears than Ludo Bagman, and that git was lucky to have dust bunnies!'

Harry leaned against the doorframe to watch Ginny change clothes. She pulled out a dress and shimmied it over her head. A series of small buttons ran up the front from just above her navel to just under her collarbone. She was having trouble getting the buttons done up over her breasts. She managed to get them buttoned, but there were a few distressingly large gaps between them. Again, she felt the sting of tears. 'What the hell did you do to my clothes?!?'

'What? Nothing!'

'You must have! Nothing fits anymore. And you're the one who's been doing the laundry lately.'

'Ginny, I swear, I haven't done anything to them! Can you do an Engorgement charm on it? The dress, I mean?'

'I can, but we're already running late, I can't do it while I'm wearing the dress, and if I mess up…' By now, Ginny had worked herself up to an all-out crying jag. Harry was truly alarmed. Ginny was not the emotional type.

Handing Ginny a handkerchief, he pulled out the jumper she sometimes wore with the dress. 'Ginny, relax. It's just Ron and Hermione.' Harry gave her the jumper. Ginny sniffled a few times and tugged the garment over her head.

'I don't know what's wrong with me lately.'

'It's okay. You've been under a lot of pressure at work. It's fine, dear.'

Ginny sighed and nodded. 'All right. Let's go.'

Ron, as it turned out, was an excellent cook. Almost as good as Molly. He often joked it was one thing he could do better than Hermione. The evening passed pleasantly enough, the four of them sitting in Ron and Hermione's flat, chatting about this and that. Ginny curled on the sofa next to Harry, her head resting on his shoulder. She blinked sleepily, wondering why she was so tired. It was barely nine o'clock. She blinked a few more times, and dozed off to the murmur of Harry, Ron, and Hermione's voices.

'What's wrong with Ginny?' Ron noticed she had fallen asleep.

'She's been busy at work the past few weeks,' Harry said.

'She did something weird today,' Ron mused. Harry just arched an eyebrow in question. 'She came to the shop in a rush, begged for a sandwich, then left. That's not the odd part,' he said in a rush. 'She was carrying her jeans with her. Had on a pair of brand-new ones. Said a bunch of rubbish about how you had shrunk them in the dryer.'

'Hm. She accused me of doing that before we came over earlier.'

'Mental.' Ron shook his head. Hermione had been following the thread of conversation like a spectator at a tennis match. She had her suspicions, but wasn't going to voice them. Not now. She doubted even Ginny knew what was going on.

'Harry, go on and take Ginny home. We'll see you Sunday?' He nodded, gently shook Ginny awake, and holding her close, Apperated back to their flat.

'Did I fall asleep?' she mumbled, still more than half asleep.

'Yes, you did.'

'M'sorry.'

'It's okay.' Ginny sleepily pulled her clothes off and put on her pajamas. She brushed her teeth, and burrowed into the warm bed. She hoped tomorrow would be better. It _had_ to be better than today.

The next morning, Ginny woke up, stomach in turmoil. Ugh, what had she eaten the night before? She mentally listed what she'd had at dinner with Ron and Hermione. Shepard's pie, salad, soup, treacle tart (but only a little, her clothes were getting a bit snug). She shot out of bed suddenly, and dashed into the bathroom, nearly knocking over Harry, who was brushing his teeth, in the process. Ginny barely made it to the toilet, where she proceeded to throw up.

'That's attractive,' remarked Harry in a mild tone. Ginny shot him a look of pure loathing, until he handed her a damp washcloth and a glass of water. 'I'll just go and make some tea and toast, shall I?'

Harry ambled out of the bathroom, and into the kitchen, where he filled the tea kettle, and tossed a few pieces of bread into his Muggle toaster. While he waited for the water to boil, he leaned against the counter and looked at the calendar Ginny had tacked up to the wall. There was something missing. The small red X Ginny put in the corner of the date she… Well, Harry really didn't want to think about that. Pulling the calendar down from the wall, he idly flipped back to December. Yes, there was an X in December second, but none for January and today was February third. Maybe Ginny had been too busy to put the mark in the calendar, but Harry didn't think so. He would be the first to admit his knowledge of the finer points of female biology was shaky at best, but even he knew what that missing X might portend.

Harry laid the calendar on the table and poured the water over the tea leaves in the pot. Ginny shuffled in, looking a bit peaked under her freckles. Slumping at the table, she poured herself a cup of tea, and picked up the calendar. 'What's this doing here?' Harry decided to go for broke, and tell her his suspicions. In the most roundabout way he could.

'Erm… Gin? Notice anything missing? For January?' Ginny's eyes narrowed as she examined January. She slowly turned the pages backward, back to last September, then back up to January. As she realized just what _was_ missing from January, she went even paler.

Ginny didn't think she could get any queasier, but she was wrong. 'Don't Muggles have tests for this sort of thing?' she asked.

'I think so. Do they work on witches, you reckon?'

'I hope so… I don't want to go to St. Mungo's unless I _have_ to.'

Harry went down to the street, and ran to the apothecary nearest the flat. He dashed inside and found a bewildering array of options. Gaahh! No time for this. He took one of each brand and walked up to the counter and all but threw the Muggle money at the poor woman behind the counter. She took it all in stride, having watched this scene play out many, many times before.

Harry pounded up the stairs, flinging himself through the front door. 'Here,' he panted, thrusting a paper sack toward Ginny.

She pulled out a box and examined it with confusion. 'What do I do with this?'

'You think _I_ know?'

'You did live with Muggles,' she pointed out.

'Yeah, but pregnancy tests weren't usually an issue that came up at dinner.' Harry took one out of the sack himself and examined the box. 'Oh, look, it says there are instructions inside. See?' He pointed out the small print on the side. Ginny opened the box and with a somewhat alarmed expression on her face, began to read the insert.

'I'm supposed to do ­_what_?' She eyed the box with suspicion. With a rather put upon sigh, Ginny stalked into the bathroom, with Harry trailing in her wake. Ginny hadn't realized Harry was behind her until she started to close the bathroom door.

'Could you please go wait outside? I just can't… Not in front of you!' Harry just barely refrained from rolling his eyes and remarking that he had just seen her vomit, so what was peeing on a stick at this point. Saying nothing, he went to sit on the edge of the unmade bed. And wait.

Ginny nervously opened the packaging around the test. 'Get a grip, Weasley,' she muttered to herself. 'It's not that big a deal.' When Ginny finished with the test, she balanced it on the edge of the tub, watching the window to see if one line or two would appear. 'Oh bloody hell...' and she burst into tears.

Harry yanked open the bathroom door to find Ginny sitting on the edge of the tub, crying. He couldn't think of anything to do, but pick her up and carry her to the armchair in the bedroom. He let her cry, and rubbed her back, murmuring nonsense until she calmed down. When she stopped crying, Harry brushed the hair back from her face. He tipped her chin up to face him. 'Gin? Would it be that bad?' he asked, resting a hand on her stomach, already imagining a little girl with Ginny's hair and his eyes.

'No. I suppose not. I just…' She bit her lip. 'I just wanted more time, that's all…' she said wistfully.

'More time? Gin, we've been together for, what? Almost seven years?' Harry was a bit confused.

'Not that. I just… She looked up with wide eyes. 'I don't ­_feel_­ grown up. Sometimes, I still feel like that fifteen year old girl you kissed in the Gryffindor common room.

'I mean… are _we_ ready for a baby?'

Harry looked at her thoughtfully. 'We have been raising Teddy for six years now,' he said. 'It shouldn't be too different.'

Ginny snorted, 'Yeah, but this,' she said, placing her hand on top of Harry's, 'is all day, every day to the point where you'll pay _George_ to baby-sit, just to get a few hours of peace and quiet. We've only had Teddy on weekends mostly, and a few weeks during the summers.' Harry didn't say anything. He knew she was right.

'We should get confirmation, you know…' Ginny broke into Harry's thoughts.

'Whaa? Oh, yeah.'

'I'll go later today.'

'So, let's say this is real… When do we tell everyone?' Even though Ginny and he had been married for a few years, he wasn't sure her brothers had reconciled themselves to the fact they shared a bed.

'When the little bugger gets his Hogwarts letter?'

'Sounds like a plan to me,' Harry laughed.

Harry owled the Ministry, saying he needed to stay home today, as Ginny wasn't feeling well, being deliberately vague. The people in the Ministry could be terrible gossips, and he didn't want too much of it to get out yet. He also owled the _Prophet_ letting them know Ginny was under the weather, but she would owl her story in later this afternoon. Ginny Flooed to St. Mungo's, 'just to make sure,' she'd said.

Around noon, she came out of the fireplace. 'Those things _do_ work on witches after all. September eighth,' was all she said before plopping unceremoniously on the sofa. 'When did this happen?' she wailed. Harry was mentally cataloging the times he and Ginny had had sex the past two months, trying to remember if there was one time they had failed to remember to take precautions. Then it hit him…

'Does the Puddlemere/Tutshill game ring a bell?' he asked quietly. Ginny's mouth dropped open.

'The bathtub?' she asked weakly.

'Smart girl, got it one.' Neither one of the said anything for a while. 'You know, I think we might need a bigger place,' Harry remarked, conversationally.

'You think so?'

'Won't be enough room for Teddy and this one in that little room.'

'It's a pity we have to leave the mural,' Ginny said sadly. Teddy loved the mural, and the stories of Remus that went along with it.

'Don't worry; I'll get Dean to do another one for us in the new place.'

'Wow. So this is really happening, isn't it? We're going to be… parents…' Ginny rolled the word around on her tongue, tasting it.

'Yeah… it's almost too bad that Snape isn't around to teach them Potions or DADA. Poor man… more little Weasleys and Potters running around to make his life hell,' Harry grinned, thinking with a twinge of sadness of the man who saved his life. 'Do you realize that in eleven years, we'll be putting the little one here on the train? I hope I don't cry…'

'So do I. It's totally embarrassing to have your dad blubbering like a little first year.'


	2. Firewhisky in the Shed

Harry and Ginny stood on the front porch of the Burrow. 'You do it,' she whispered.

'No, you.'

'Coward.'

'Coward? Me?'

'Yes, you!'

'Gin, you're the one with five brothers ready to pound me into dust for defiling their baby sister!'

'Oh, for Merlin's sake, Harry,' Ginny muttered. 'Just open the bloody door already!'

'No.' Harry's chin set in stubborn lines. 'If you want to go in so badly, _you_ open the door!'

'Why do I have to open the door?'

'Because –' The door flew open, and Katie stood watching them with an inquisitive look.

'You two going to come in, or stand out there and argue over who opens the door all afternoon?' Guiltily, Harry and Ginny trailed after Katie into the kitchen. A cacophony of sound greeted them. All the Weasleys were in attendance for lunch.

Bill sat at the scrubbed wooden table with his four-month old daughter, Madeline in his arms, and three-year old Victoire in a chair next to him. Fleur was helping Molly finish lunch, along with Penny, Percy's wife, and Bronwyn, Charlie's wife. Charlie was nowhere to be seen, but he could be heard trying to catch his rather mischievous daughter, Isabella, and bring her into the kitchen. George was unsuccessfully attempting to persuade a rather pregnant Katie to sit down and get off her feet. Percy was trying to maintain a somewhat unnatural state of cleanliness with his two-year old son, Parker, which was a very strenuous task, given the general boisterousness of the Weasley household. Ron slid a pie in the oven, while Arthur and Hermione set the table as they debated the flaws of the proposed law for the treatment of magical beings that had been passed by the Wizangamot two weeks ago.

It was loud. Chaotic. Totally and completely unorganized.

But Harry wouldn't have wanted it any other way. The flat may have been where he lived, but this would always be home to him. A chorus of greetings met Harry and Ginny as they wound through the pandemonium and found their seats at the table. 'Is it just me, or has this kitchen gotten bigger since I was twelve?' Harry asked no one in particular.

'Oh, it's gotten bigger.' Arthur set a plate down in front of Ginny. 'We had to. Once all you lot got married. Gets downright inconvenient to hold lunches outdoors when it's cold like this.' Harry shook his head in amazement.

'Here we are! Lunch is ready.' Molly began to levitate platters of food to the table. A bowl of creamed parsnips landed in front of Ginny, who went pale under her freckles, and tried to shove it away without attracting attention. Harry started to take a slice of steak-and-kidney pie, but a noise from Ginny made him pass the dish down the table. He studied the contents of the table warily. He reached for the dish of chicken casserole with an upraised eyebrow. She nodded, and he ladled some onto his plate. He glanced at Ginny from the corner of his eye. She gingerly poked at a pile of mashed potatoes on her plate, but didn't look like she was going to bolt in the near future.

Molly watched the silent interactions that would have gone unnoticed by the others. Ginny wasn't usually a picky eater, but today, she bypassed most of what was on the table. She also thought Ginny had been looking a little peaked lately, or would have, if she didn't have an air about her. 'Are you feeling all right, Ginny?' Molly's voice rose above the din to her daughter. The table fell silent and everybody's attention zeroed to Ginny.

'Actually, Ginny and I have an announcement…' Harry didn't even get the rest of the sentence out before Molly had pulled both of them into her signature bone-crushing hugs. Suddenly, she stopped, putting both of them at arm's length.

'You are, aren't you?' Harry and Ginny nodded and she pulled them back into a hug.

'What are they?' asked Ron, who had been working his way through his lunch and hadn't been paying much attention to the scene around him.

'I believe, little bro, that we will be uncles!' exclaimed George.

'Ewwww!' Ron still hadn't gotten used to the idea of Harry and his baby sister having sex. Soon, the table was buzzing with thoughts of whether the baby would be a girl or a boy, if they'd thought of names, had they decided to move to a bigger home yet. Ron was unusually silent, as he toyed with the remains of his food.

'Ron, what's the matter? Do you feel okay?' asked a worried Hermione. If Ron wasn't eating, he must be sick.

'Oh, yeah… just thinking…'

'Don't hurt yourself,' she said wryly. Ron just rolled his eyes.

'No, really. I was thinking that… maybe we…' He gestured toward Ginny and Harry.

'Have a baby?' Ron shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

'Yeah…' he said, blushing. Hermione looked at him, rather the same way his mother did when she was weighing the truthfulness of what he just said.

'All right, then,' she said, kissing him on the cheek.

After lunch, Arthur pulled Harry out to his shed, under the pretense of showing him his newest Muggle contraption. Arthur knew Ginny could be volatile at times, and he was glad he wasn't going to have to live with her for the next several months. Harry was going to need some advice from a battle-scarred veteran.

Bill returned to the kitchen from putting Victoire down for a nap. 'Where's Dad?'

'Out in ze shed with 'arry. Some new Muggle contraption,' Fleur replied. Bill grinned to himself. _Ah, the Weasley tradition_, he thought. Arthur had taken him out to the shed when they told the family about Victoire.

'I think I'll go see what it is,' Bill said casually. He jerked his head to the door and Charlie nodded. One by one, the others would find a reason to go to the shed, too.

Bill knocked on the door. 'Dad? Harry?' The door opened a crack, then wider to admit Bill. Arthur promptly shut the door.

'Okay, Harry,' he said, conjuring a bottle of Firewhisky and pouring each of them a healthy shot, 'once your baby is here, it will be one of the most incredible things you'll ever experience. But the next several months…' He shuddered with the experience of a man who had seen war and lived to tell about it. Bill nodded vigorously in agreement.

'First off,' Bill began, 'she'll start crying. For no reason at all. Don't even bother asking why, she won't know and that'll make her cry harder.' Mildly alarmed, Harry took a gulp of the drink.

'Then, at some point,' Arthur interjected, 'she'll start to ask you if you think she's fat. There's no right answer, son, I'm sorry to say. If you say no, she'll say you're lying.'

'If you say yes, she'll say you're an insensitive berk,' chimed in Bill.

'And don't say a word about the ankles,' breathed Arthur, fear briefly etched on his face.

'And when she feels the need to clean the whole ruddy flat, just leave her be,' advised Bill. Harry could only nod. He gulped the rest of his Firewhisky and Bill promptly refilled it.

And so it went -- advice on dealing with a pregnant woman. George, Ron, Charlie, and Percy wandered into the shed, and the bottle of Firewhisky was passed around. George toasted Harry as, 'the Boy-Who-Knocked-Up-My-Baby-Sister'. Charlie confessed he'd rather face a Hungarian Horntail on his own than try to 'help' during childbirth. Percy, with a few shots of Firewhisky down him, launched into a rather harrowing tale of what happened when Penny had Parker. It seemed to involve lots of threats about slowly removing Percy's bits and feeding them to a hippogriff. Harry dimly thought Ron looked more than a little shaken by the description of what would happen during childbirth, but at that point, he'd been tossing back Firewhisky with astounding regularity as the warnings became more and more dire.

All of a sudden, there was a blinding light in the shed. 'Hem-hem.' Harry jumped.

'Sweet Merlin, how did Umbridge find us?' he asked wildly. All of the Weasley men fell silent as they turned around to face seven very upset Weasley women. 'Ginny!' Harry exclaimed brightly. 'You're so pretty…' He smiled at her, in what he thought was an appealing manner, but ruined it by belching. Loudly. Hermione surveyed the group with a look that would have put Minerva McGonagall to shame.

'Men,' she said huffily, and bent to get a shoulder under Ron, who was trying to stand up with all the grace of a newborn unicorn. Silently, the Weasley women corralled their men. They would save the punishment for the morning. When the hangover hit.

Harry woke up and didn't recognize where he was. He fumbled for his glasses and winced at the light that came through the curtains in the sitting room. He didn't remember getting home last night from the Burrow. He was tucked up on the sofa of his and Ginny's flat. He looked around, wondering what time it was, when he noticed Ginny, calmly sipping tea in the squashy armchair in the corner. She was too calm. 'How are you feeling?' she asked.

'D'ya have to yell, Gin?'

Ginny raised her eyebrow. Oh, hell… Harry knew he was in trouble. Big trouble. 'I'm not yelling. How much Firewhisky did you drink, exactly?'

Harry groaned and let his head drop back to the sofa. Ouch. Bad idea. He squinted at Ginny. 'I dunno… it got hazy after the first few shots. Then once the rest of your brothers came in, we just passed the bottle round.'

'Why were you out in the shed with Dad and Bill drinking like a bunch of sodding drunks?' Ginny asked, still in that oh-so-pleasant tone of voice that could send shivers of outright fear down Harry's spine.

'They were offering advice. For Merlin's sake, Ginny, can you just kill me now? I think my head's about to fall off anyway…' Ginny was not in a mood to be merciful. Neither were Mum, Fleur, Bronwyn, Penny, Katie, or Hermione, she imagined.

'What kind of 'advice'?' Harry could see Ginny put the air quotes around the word _advice_, with an ominous air he usually had only seen with Molly. He closed his eyes and drew in as deep a breath as he could manage without throwing up.

'Er, just things I can do for you… to make you comfortable…'

'Did that include getting drunk on a Sunday afternoon?' Ginny could be an inquisitor on the Wizengamot if she put her mind to it.

'Um… No… that was an accident.' Ginny gave him a patented Molly Weasley look. Harry wondered if Ginny had been born knowing how to do that, or did Molly offer classes? 'Really, Gin, it was an accident. Your dad just thought he could pass on some fatherly advice on how to make the next couple of months go smoothly. Honestly.' Harry groaned and closed his eyes again. He cracked open one eyelid and did the stupidest thing he could have done in this situation.

He asked Ginny to make him a cup of tea.

She dumped the nearly full mug she had in her hand on his head, and stalked to the bathroom to take a shower.

Once Ginny was out of the bathroom, Harry was rather ineffectually rummaging around in the medicine cabinet looking for something – anything – to make the hangover go away. Not finding anything promising, he contented himself with a hot shower. It seemed to take horrendous amounts of effort to find something to wear to work and even more effort to put the clothes on. Feeling a somewhat deflated sense of accomplishment at managing to dress himself, Harry dragged himself to the kitchen for breakfast. Ginny was at the stove, making more tea and toasting several slices of bread with her wand. She didn't even look over her shoulder when she gave a flick of the wand toward the table and a mug of something emitting purple sparks appeared on the surface of the table. 'Drink it,' she ordered. Harry obeyed with alacrity, not wanting to antagonize Ginny any further. It was already looking like a long week (or two) on the couch for him.

Harry Flooed to George and Ron's joke shop, in preparation to heading over to the Ministry. He wanted to see if they felt nearly as bad as he did. Strength in numbers and all that. George looked as pale as Ginny did after a round of morning sickness. Ron looked like his own hair hurt him. 'Did either of you get the inquisition this morning?' George and Ron nodded gingerly.

'What the bloody hell were we thinking?' moaned Ron, sliding down, so his head rested on the counter.

'That we were Weasley men, trying to help poor Harry here deal with the insanity that is a pregnant Weasley woman,' George smirked, as much as his hangover allowed. 'You're in for a rough ride, mate. Oh, and Katie's having twins, by the way… Didn't quite get to that yesterday.' George smiled in an awed sort of way. 'If they're boys, we've decided to name one after Fred.'

Ron snickered, 'At least they'll be prepared at Hogwarts for dealing with a set of Weasley twins. '

Ron was quiet for a moment. 'Remind me when Hermione and I get around to having one of those, that we don't repeat the event in the shed. We'll do it in the flat upstairs…'

'Right,' said George. 'Good plan, Ronniekins. Harry, come round at lunch if you want, all right? Neither of us could handle breakfast. Did you?'

'No. Thanks, I'll come by.' Harry left the shop and went to his office. He knew he looked worse for wear, even with the hangover potion. He tried to do as little as he could get away with doing that morning. A dull headache pounded behind his eyes.

Shacklebolt poked his head into Harry's office at some point, gave Harry a look up and down, and simply said, 'I saw Arthur and Percy on my way in this morning. I can only imagine what you got up to.' Harry's only response was a grunt. Shacklebolt just chuckled and left. Harry laid his head on his desk, jabbed his wand toward the door to close it, and promptly fell asleep.

He woke up to the rumbles emanating from his stomach. It had been a long time since lunch yesterday. Harry scrubbed a hand over his face, and shoved his glasses on his nose. The headache had backed off enough to where he felt he could function. He headed to the joke shop. He needed to talk to Ron and George. The past few days had been one wild ride, and Harry was inwardly clinging to his own equilibrium.

The shop closed at lunch. They had to start doing that after the war and business picked up so much, Ron and George would go from dawn to nightfall without eating. Harry whispered the spell to open the door, and slipped inside. He headed up the stairs to the flat and joined Ron and George. 'You all right?' George asked sympathetically. He had fainted when Katie told him she was pregnant.

'Yeah. I think so.'

'No, you're not,' George snorted. 'You're spinning madly out of control, and you don't know what to do or say, because you realize your whole life is changing as it's happening, and you feel like you can't keep up.' He took a bite of his sandwich. 'It's how I felt with Katie. Still feel that way, to be perfectly honest.'

Harry leaned back in his chair. 'I'm amazed, awed, insanely happy, and absolutely and totally petrified.' He picked up a sandwich, and methodically tore the crusts off the bread. 'I'm not ready to be a father. I don't even know what one is supposed to do!'

'Do what you do with Teddy,' said Ron.

'I keep telling myself that, but Ginny was right. He lives with Andromeda, and I get to do all the fun stuff, but not the real dad stuff.' He pushed a pickle slice around the plate with a forefinger. 'The only fathers I've ever really known are my uncle -- ' frowns around the table -- 'and Arthur.'

'You're never ready. For any of it,' Ron said unexpectedly. Harry and George gaped at Ron. 'What?' Ron snapped.

'Profundity from unexpected sources,' George said smoothly. Ron flushed.

'It's what Dad told me the night before I married Hermione,' Ron explained defensively. 'Said he wasn't ready when he married Mum, or had Bill...'

'I'll say,' interjected George in an undertone.

'Or any of us,' Ron continued. 'Even when the twins, Ginny, and I were born, and let's face it, at that point, it's ready or not…' Ron shrugged. He fixed Harry with a look and asked, 'Are you really okay with all this?'

'Yeah! I'm thrilled. Just scared I'm going to screw the poor kid up.'

'Nah, Ginny won't let you,' George said.

'But what if…'

'Harry,' began Ron, 'think of what your uncle would do in a situation, then do the opposite.'


	3. Are You Going to Eat That?

A few weeks later, Harry was writing a report for Shacklebolt. Even after Riddle's death there were still small scattered cells of people they kept an eye on. While they had never been official Death Eaters, they espoused some of Riddle's ideas. The Ministry couldn't force them to break up, but the things they talked about, like Muggle-baiting and abuse of other magical creatures, was illegal. The Aurors infiltrated the groups from time to time to see how far things had gone. Harry had spent several afternoons with one such group in disguise. So far, that group seemed to be nothing more than a gaggle of young, disaffected wizards and witches. Upper-middle class purebloods who wanted to drink copious amounts of alcohol and complain about how all the Muggle-borns and half-bloods ruined everything. Harry had always felt his work as an Auror was important, but now that he and Ginny were going to have a baby, it was even more important to make the world a better place. He wanted his son or daughter to have a normal life, and not have to worry about Dark wizards.

There was a knock on the door that was soon followed by Hermione's head. 'Are you busy?'

'Nope. Just finishing this up,' Harry absently replied, as he wrote the final few comments on his report. He rolled up the parchment and tapped it with his wand, sealing it to anyone but Shacklebolt. 'Come in,' he said dropping his quill and stretching.

Hermione settled in one of the chairs on the other side of Harry's desk. 'Just how long was that parchment, anyway?'

'Um… Five feet, give or take a few inches.'

'And this from the boy who couldn't stand to write eighteen inches for History of Magic,' Hermione commented, shaking her head. Harry rolled his eyes. 'Anyway, I came by to bring you something.' She laid a book on Harry's desk, and pushed it across the surface to him.

'A book, Hermione?'

'Just read it.'

Harry picked up the book. It was a Muggle book. '_What to Expect When You're Expecting_?' he read. 'Is this for Ginny or me?'

'Both of you. Although, I think you should read it first,' she said delicately.

'Thanks. Where did you get this?' Harry asked, flipping idly through a few pages.

'My cousin just had a baby. Supposedly, it's sort of like the penultimate pregnancy book among Muggles. She said it was really very informative.' Hermione sat looking intently at Harry.

'What? Do I have food on my face or something?'

'Oh, no. Just…' Hermione bit her lip uncomfortably.

Harry sighed. 'Just spit it out, Hermione.'

'Are you sure you're all right with this?'

'What? The baby?' Hermione nodded. 'Yes. Why does everyone keep asking me this?' he demanded.

'Harry…' Hermione stopped, unsure of how to continue. 'You… don't always take to change well,' she said trying not to wring her hands together, and failing miserably.

Harry's head snapped up. Hermione braced herself for an onslaught of irate verbiage. 'I'm not fifteen anymore, Hermione,' he said mildly.

'I know.'

'Insane surprises I'm not fond of. Change – good change – is all right.'

'And this is good?'

Harry sighed, close to exasperation. 'Hermione. You're the sister I never had, but could you stop worrying about me? Yes, I'm scared, but so would you be if you were going to have your first child.' Harry rose from his char, and walked around the desk. Pulling Hermione up into a hug, he said, 'I'm over the moon about the baby. Dumbledore was right, you know. Love is a very powerful kind of magic.' Harry's eyes twinkled.

'Okay, that's enough. I'm with Ron on this one… ewww,' Hermione smirked.

'Mind in the gutter much, Granger?'

'That's Granger-Weasley to you, prat.' Smiling, she kissed Harry's cheek, and went back to her own office.

Harry shook his head, and picked up the parchment to deliver to Shacklebolt. He came back into his office, and picked up the book. He laughed to himself. Trust Hermione to go for books first. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to at least skim through some of it. At least it didn't come with a hangover.

A couple of hours later, Harry had read through the section dealing with the first trimester. Some of it was far more than he wanted to know, and other parts, like the food cravings made him slightly queasy. He remembered when Fleur had first been pregnant with Madeline. She wandered into the Burrow's kitchen one Sunday afternoon after lunch and made a sandwich with leftover turkey, clotted cream, and sultanas. Harry privately hoped Ginny's cravings didn't go in that direction. There was one advantage to living in London, he thought. If Ginny wanted ice cream at three in the morning, he could get it.

'Harry?' Shacklebolt poked his head into Harry's office. 'What are you still doing here? It's almost seven. Go home to your beautiful wife.'

'It is?' Harry looked at his watch. It was six forty-five. 'Holy… Ginny's going to go spare.' He snatched up his coat, and sprinted for the Apparition area, with Shacklebolt's amused chuckles following him.

He burst through the front door of the flat calling, 'Ginny?' Nothing but silence answered him. His heart sank to his stomach. The silent treatment from Ginny was never good. 'Ginny?' Harry went into the bedroom. Maybe she was sleeping. Nope. The bed was empty and still made from that morning. Harry was starting to worry. He dashed into the sitting room, ready to put in Floo calls to the entire family, when he saw the note taped to the refrigerator door.

_Harry, had to go to Wales. The person who normally covers Caerphilly is in St. Mungo's - took a Bludger to the head and is still unconscious – so I'm covering the game. I'll be home as soon as I can. Love, Ginny. _

Harry dropped into a chair at the table in relief. He was going to turn into Mad-Eye soon if he didn't stop seeing Dark wizards in the shadows all the time. 'They're all gone, Harry,' he breathed. 'They're all gone, and not coming back.' A chill went up his spine as it dawned on him why everyone kept asking him if he was happy about the baby.

'_Harry, why do you want to live with Muggles?' Seamus asked. _

'_It's quieter. No reporters camping out on my doorstep.' The war had been over for a year, and there were still reporters hanging about the Burrow. Harry and Bill put up wards around the house and front and back gardens. It gave everyone a respite from the attention, and they could live somewhat normally. 'And it's not totally with Muggles,' he added defensively. 'The Leaky Cauldron's just a few blocks away.'_

'_Right,' said Seamus. Harry went into his bedroom and began to unpack his clothing. Truth be told, he felt living around Muggles like this made him less of a target. Muggles didn't know, or care, who Harry Potter was. For all they knew he was a real as Marvin the Mad Muggle. But he couldn't shake the feeling every time he went into the Wizarding world, there was someone watching him, even if nobody was there. _

_Methodically arranging his t-shirts in the wardrobe, Harry chanted to himself, 'They're gone, Harry. Riddle, the Lestranges, Dolohov, even Greyback. They're gone.'_

'_Harry?' Ron stood in the doorway, Hermione behind him. 'Did you say something?'_

_Startled, Harry's head jerked up. 'I didn't say anything.' He saw Hermione and Ron exchange a look, before they went back into the other room. Harry stared after them for a moment. Had he been talking out loud? And if he had, what exactly had they heard?_

Harry shook himself. 'The problem with having a target on your back is, when it's gone you can't tell,' he sighed. 'There will always be Dark wizards, but there will never be another Riddle.'

He remembered getting drunk with the Weasley boys a week before his wedding. He blurted out how scared he was the Ginny would be a target for vengeful Dark wizards. _No wonder they all think I'm about to have a major panic attack over adding a baby to this_, he thought.

Not feeling very hungry, but needing something to do, Harry made himself a sandwich and cup of tea. He took both back into the sitting room, and stared at the flames of the fireplace, trying to will Ginny into walking through them.

He fell asleep on the sofa, waiting.

The roar of Ginny coming through the Floo woke him a few hours later. Harry sprang from the sofa and wrapped his arms around Ginny's waist and held her. 'You're home,' he murmured into her hair.

'Harry? Could you loosen the grip a bit, love? Sore breasts don't like being squished right now.'

'Sorry,' he said, releasing his hold on Ginny, his face slightly pink.

Ginny looked up at him quizzically. 'Were you worried?'

'What? Me? Worry? You must have me mixed up with someone else.' Harry tried his best wide-eyed innocent look on Ginny.

'Mmm-hmmm,' Ginny commented skeptically. 'Nothing is going to happen to me,' Ginny said, knowing he needed to hear her to say it. 'Or the baby,' she added.

'I know,' he said. 'I just have to keep telling myself that. Maybe one day I'll believe it.' Harry bent to kiss Ginny. 'Are you hungry?'

'Not really. Still kind of nauseated at odd times of the day.'

'That should clear up soon,' Harry said, with a knowledgeable air.

'And you know this how…?' One of Ginny's fiery eyebrows quirked upward.

'Hermione. Gave us a book.' Harry gave Ginny a lingering kiss. 'It'll keep until tomorrow.'

'So according to this,' Ginny held up the book, 'I'm going to have all sorts of weird cravings soon, which after watching five pregnancies in the family so far, I'm not sure I want to do that…'

'It's a little late now, don't you think?'

'Well, I'm not going to do that.'

Harry snorted. 'I don't think you have a choice.'

'Tell me again why _you_ can't do this?'

'Um, basic biology?'

Ginny settled back into the pillows of their bed. 'Oh, wow, I don't think I would have noticed the breasts without the bloody book pointing it out to me,' she said sarcastically. 'I swear, they've taken on a life of their own.'

Harry's gaze flicked down a few inches. A slow flush spread over his cheeks. He cleared his throat.

'Oh, you're joking,' said Ginny. 'Oh wait. You're a man. Never mind,' she sighed. 'Mood swings? Hah. Not me. I'm like Gibraltar.'

Harry made a suspicious cough that may have been 'yeah, right,' but Ginny wasn't sure. He climbed out of bed and went to fetch more tea.

Ginny flipped through the next few chapters of the book, her horror growing as she went further in the book. 'Why do they publish something like this?' she cried when Harry came back to bed. 'This is… disgusting!'

'It can't be that bad, Gin,' he said soothingly.

'Oh, really?' Ginny turned a few pages. 'Well, look at this!' She thrust the book under his nose.

Harry made a sound of revulsion. 'I really didn't need to know that,' he said, taking a gulp of his tea.

Ginny snorted. 'You think that's bad? Wait until the kid comes out.'

'Do you want me there when that happens?'

Ginny considered the question. 'You want to be?'

'I don't know,' he said truthfully. 'It's up to you, isn't it?'

Ginny gazed at him. 'I suppose. Not something we have to decide right now, though.' She put the book down and looked around the bedroom. It had become their sanctuary the past few years. 'Part of me doesn't want to leave this place.'

'Me, either.'

'Do we have to move soon? Or can we wait a while longer?'

Harry considered how difficult it might be to have both Teddy and a baby in the flat for an extended period of time. 'We can wait until after the baby's born,' he ventured. 'Gives us a bit more time.'

'Got any ideas about where we'll live?'

Harry shifted a bit, and picked at a loose thread of the quilt. 'Godric's Hollow, maybe.'

'Somehow, I think that 'maybe' was for my benefit,' Ginny remarked.

'There's a house…' Harry began. He picked at the loose thread a bit more.

'Okay. What kind of house?'

'Our house,' he said in a small voice, waiting tensely for Ginny's reaction. He didn't have to wait long.

Ginny sprang out of bed, sending the book flying across the room. It landed on the floor with a papery thump. 'Do you mean to tell me you bought a bloody house and didn't tell me?' she shouted. 'When were you going to say something?'

'Er… later?'

Ginny was pacing back and forth in front of the bed. 'Why did you do that?'

Harry pulled his knees to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them. He looked like a five-year old child, in his ragged t-shirt and pajama bottoms, with his messy hair. 'I saw it a few days after we found out you were pregnant,' he shrugged. 'And I could see us, with our children, living in that house. So, I bought it.'

'Just like that, you bought a house? Merlin's arse, Harry, you don't just buy a house without talking to your wife!' Ginny stormed off to the kitchen.

Harry flopped back into the pillows and groaned. He thought the house was going to be a nice surprise, and not the seed that started a fight with Ginny. He heard sniffling sounds coming from the kitchen. Rolling off the bed, Harry cautiously went into the kitchen and found Ginny sitting at the table, crying into one of the most disgusting things he had ever seen. And he had spent seven years watching Ron eat. She had found his jar of peanut butter and spread a layer of it on top of a pumpkin pasty. Trying not to make sounds of revulsion, Harry crossed to the table. 'Ginny, what's the matter?' he asked tentatively.

'It's just so good,' she sniffled. 'The pumpkin and the peanut butter go so good together.'

'But it's making you cry…' Harry was confused.

'No… I'm sorry I yelled at you. You were just doing something nice for us,' Ginny hiccupped.

Harry stared at Ginny, completely lost. Not five minutes earlier, she had torn into him for buying the house, now she was thanking him for it. And she was still eating that disgusting concoction of peanut butter and pumpkin pasty.

'Can we go see the house today?' Ginny's question broke through Harry's thoughts.

'Erm… sure.' Harry fumbled for a glass to pour himself some orange juice. _Mood swings, eh?_, he thought. _More like mood blitzes._ He wondered briefly how he was going to make it through the next several months of this.

'So? What do you think?' Harry opened the back door and led Ginny into the kitchen. He turned around and saw tears fall down her cheeks.

'It's beautiful,' she said, taking in the room. It was cozy, but not cramped. Airy, but not drafty.

'Then why are you crying?'

'I don't know,' she snuffled. 'It's just so _perfect_.'

Harry set a basket packed with lunch on the counter and silently gave her a handkerchief. 'There's a small room off the sitting room,' he said. 'I thought we could use it as a home office. Four bedrooms upstairs. Two bathrooms,' he added.

'Two? Really?' Ginny's eyes sparkled. She remembered waiting for what could seem like hours with the single bathroom in the Burrow. Two seemed a decadent luxury.

'Yeah, one is in our bedroom.'

'Can I go see?' she asked excitedly.

'Yeah. It is our house, after all.'

For more than an hour, Ginny and Harry went through the house, trying to imagine what their things would look like in it. Harry was in the attic, poking through some of the detritus left by previous owners, when he realized Ginny wasn't there. He went back downstairs and followed the sounds of rustling coming from the kitchen.

Ginny leaned against the counter. She was about to put a Chocolate Frog on a chicken sandwich. This time, Harry couldn't stop himself. 'Oh, Gin, that's revolting! Are you really going to eat that?'

Ginny considered the sandwich in her hand, and looked back at Harry. 'Yep.'


	4. SamIAm

'Harry? Are you home?'

'Yeah, I'm in here!' Ginny followed the voice and the scent simmering tomatoes and garlic into the kitchen.

'What is all this?' she asked amazed at the amount of food on the table.

Harry looked at Ginny over his shoulder and smirked, 'You see, Gin, there's a meal that occurs in the evening. We call it 'dinner'. I know it's been quite a while since you've actually _seen_ a dinner, but this is what one looks like.' He set two plates on the table filled with pasta. 'I hope you're hungry.'

'Famished.' It was true. The ever-present nausea had vanished, and Ginny was usually bordering on ravenous.

'Good. You might want to go easy on that. I made apple crumble for pudding.'

'Ice cream, too?' Ginny looked at Harry with a hopeful expression.

'Maybe,' he said coyly.

'So what brought all this on?' Ginny gestured at the meal and Harry in the apron.

'Just happy to see you eating. Had me worried for a bit.'

'Treacle tart still makes me ill, though,' Ginny said with an apologetic smile.

'Oh well,' Harry sighed. 'But the first thing I'm going to have when this one's born is the biggest piece of treacle tart I can find. I don't care what time of day it is.'

'I'll make sure Mum has one on standby,' Ginny said dryly.

Ginny insisted on doing the dishes. 'I can do it with magic,' she argued. Harry just shrugged and sat back to watch. Ginny put her feet in his lap. 'Rub them for me? While I do this?' she begged. Harry grinned and pulled her socks off her feet. She wore red nail varnish on her toes.

While Ginny levitated the dishes from the table and into the sink, Harry picked up her left foot. As he began to run his thumbs down the sole of her foot, Ginny smiled at him, a beatific expression on her face. After repeating his ministrations on her other foot, he dropped a light kiss on her ankle, before placing her feet back in his lap. 'Got any plans this weekend?' he suddenly asked.

'Nope. Nothing major after Wednesday… Why?'

'It's Teddy's birthday.'

'Oh, right. That's next week, isn't it?'

'Yeah. But your Mum wants to have a big party at the Burrow for him Saturday afternoon.'

Ginny grinned. 'I think Mum just wants an excuse to have a big birthday party since none of us will let her do one for us anymore.'

'Didn't she just do one each for Victoire, Isabella, and Parker?'

Ginny nodded. 'She's mad I tell you, but it makes her happy to get a large group of family together and feed them.'

'She does that every Sunday,' Harry retorted bemused.

'True, but this is a _party_, not just a run of the mill Sunday lunch.'

'Ginny, I've known your mum for twelve years, and I don't think I will ever understand her.'

'Harry, don't even try. I quit a long time ago. She's a mum and it's just what mums do.'

Harry squinted at her across the table. 'I'll have to remember that. When you go nutters and I have to explain to little Sam-I-Am here why.'

'Sam-I-Am?' Ginny gave him a perplexed look.

'_Green Eggs and Ham_. Muggle book for little kids. Dudley had a copy. Not that he ever read it. It was still brand-new when we were eleven. ' Harry's eyes unfocused slightly as he tried to remember a bit of the text. 'I do not like them in a house/I do not like them with a mouse./I will not eat them Sam-I-Am./I do not like green eggs and ham,' he recited.

Ginny stared at him for a full minute before bursting into laughter. 'That's mental!' she gasped between giggles.

'No,' Harry corrected. 'That's Dr. Seuss.' He added, 'It's no more mental than Tales of Rabbity-Bappity, or whatever that is.' Ginny was still fizzing with laughter. 'We're going to a Muggle bookshop next week,' he said finally.

'Whatever for?'

'To complete your Muggle storybook education. We're getting Dr. Suess and Beatrix Potter.'

'She related to you?' Ginny had finally managed to subdue her giggles.

'Nope. Weird coincidence.' Harry remembered the day in primary school library when he'd found the series of stories written by someone who shared his name. 'I read them all, though. I was sort of obsessed, because I did think she might be related to me somehow. But, no.'

Ginny grew quiet. 'We're not naming our child Sam-I-Am.'

'I would hope not.'

Ginny pulled her feet from Harry's lap. 'I need to get to bed. They're sending me to Puddlemere tomorrow. European Cup's coming up, and I'm writing a piece about the team and how the measure up to the top teams in Germany, France, and Bulgaria.' Ginny stood and stretched, the fabric of her blouse pulling tightly against her body. Harry eyed her stomach for a moment, then shook his head. It was just the stretching.

'Krum still playing in Bulgaria somewhere?' Harry asked idly.

'I think so.'

'He tried to hit on you at Bill's wedding, you know' Harry informed her. Ginny stared at Harry in astonishment before bursting into laughter.

'You're joking!'

'Nope. I told him you had a boyfriend. Big bloke. Jealous type. You know the kind. They enjoy ripping rivals' heads off and stuffing them up their arses.'

'Now I know you're barking. Why did I marry you, again?'

'Because I'm Harry-Sodding-Potter?' he said brightly. At Ginny's narrow glare, Harry protested, 'Aw, c'mon, Gin… He didn't even remember you from Hogwarts. And he should have as much time as you spent with Hermione. He all but stalked her!'

'Oh, all right. I suppose it's okay. You only had my best interests at heart.' Ginny started to walk to the bedroom. 'I think I'm going to have to get some bigger clothes.'

'Why? Oh, wait. Dumb question. Never mind. I thought you were doing Engorgement charms on your clothes for now?'

'I was. But I can only do so many, before the clothes start to look like a tent.' Ginny stripped her blouse off and tossed it into the hamper and quickly shucked her trousers. Harry blinked. He pulled his glasses off, rubbed his eyes, and put them back on. 'What?' Ginny noticed him staring at her. Harry reached out and laid his hand on her stomach. Ginny looked down and noticed it was starting to show a visible curve. 'Oh.'

'It's real, isn't it?' Harry's breath was a bit shallow and he felt lightheaded.

'You mean the nausea and vomiting weren't real enough for you?'

'Well, yes. I was right there for most of it. But this makes it really_real_. You really do look pregnant now.'

'Give it a few more weeks.' Ginny kissed his cheek and went to take a shower.

When she came back into the bedroom, Harry was lying on the bed, eyes focused on something beyond the ceiling. Ginny climbed into bed, and stretched out, reveling in the sensation of lying down. 'You okay?'

'Hmmm? Oh, yeah. Just thinking.'

'About what?'

'What my mum and dad would say about this. Or Sirius. Or Remus, for that matter. Would they think we're too young?' Harry paused. 'More like that they were too young to be grandparents.' He smiled. 'They'd only be forty-three if they were alive.'

'Then I think they'd have no room to talk. Merlin, your mum was only nineteen when she got pregnant with you. At least _I'm_ twenty-two.'

'Kind of boggles the mind, doesn't it?'

'Just a bit,' Ginny murmured sleepily.

Harry pulled his clothes off and went to brush his teeth. When he came back to bed, Ginny was curled on her side, sound asleep. He kissed her forehead, then slid down to her stomach. Feeling slightly foolish, but needing to do it all the same, he kissed the slight bump under her nightdress. 'Hi there, little one,' he whispered, spreading his palm over it. 'This is your dad.' He paused. 'You know your mum, of course.' Harry rested his forehead against the bump. 'I hope you get your mum's hair. If you have mine, your Grandmum Weasley will spend a lot of time trying to get it to lie down. And it won't. Something of a bad job all around, if you ask me.'

* * *

'Is it just me, or has my bum gotten bigger?' Harry looked up uncertainly from tying the laces of his trainers, wracking his brain for the right answer.

'Is this one of those questions that no matter how I answer it, I'm a berk and a git, you end up in tears, and I have to sleep on the sofa for a week?'

'No. I really want to know,' Ginny insisted.

'Erm. Okay.' Harry came to stand behind Ginny, his hands on her hips. He pulled her back against his body. 'I think it's just you,' he said comparing how she fit against him. 'But seriously, Gin, if your bum grows to the size of Brazil, I'll still love you.' He tilted her chin back so he could kiss her.

'Harry, stop…' He sprang away from her.

'What? Are we not supposed to do that? Did I touch something I'm not supposed to? No kissing?' He looked at her wildly.

Ginny smothered a laugh. 'No… Teddy's party? It starts at two. We need to get to the Burrow to help Mum set up. You start all that now and we might miss our own godson's birthday.'

'Oh, right.' Harry exhaled in relief.

Ginny looked at him from the bright green eyes down to the toes of his trainers, and back up to his eyes. 'Later,' she promised. 'After the party.'

Molly sent Harry outside to help the 'boys' set up tables and chairs. His ears were met by the sounds of two wooden tables crashing into each other. This time, it was George and Percy jousting the tables. He walked up to Ron. 'Twelve Sickles on George,' he said.

Ron squinted at the tables. One of the legs on George's table looked wobbly. 'All right, then.' Just then, the table Percy was hurtling through the air glanced off George's and the leg fell off with an almighty crash. Grinning, Harry slapped twelve Sickles into Ron's hand.

'What is going on out here?' demanded an irate-looking Molly.

'Uh, nothing,' replied Percy, rubbing his nose. He was trying not to smile. Bill quickly repaired the table, and with Charlie's help positioned them together.

'Just wasn't looking where I was going, Mum,' said George smoothly. Molly just rolled her eyes and went back inside.

'Don't think she bought that one,' chuckled Charlie.

Harry and Ron started whisking chairs into place and the six of them settled at one end of the table. Harry realized everyone was looking at him. 'What?'

'How are… things?' asked Ron.

'Things?' Harry repeated blankly.

'Yeah._Things_,' Ron said blushing.

'Does it still bother you that I shag your sister?'

'Do you have to say it like that?' commented Charlie.

'Yep. So what do you mean by things?' Harry said, turning back to Ron.

'Well, Ginny. How's she doing?'

'Fine.'

'Just fine?' asked George

'What do you want? Details?' Harry sighed. 'All right. The nausea's gone, she's always hungry. _Always_. Like Ron-when-he-was-in-school-hungry. Some things still make her sick, like my favorite pudding in the whole world. I tried just not eating it in the flat. But, no. If I have a slice of treacle tart at lunch, then kiss her hello when I get home, she can taste it on me. If she's in the kitchen, and I'm in the bedroom, eating an apple, she can smell the apple. I swear, most of the time, she's asleep at nine.'

'Yeah, that sounds about normal,' nodded Bill. George noticed the tension in the lines of Harry's face. He looked at Harry critically.

'Are you sure you're okay?'

Harry started. 'Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?' George stood up to fetch a tablecloth from Katie, who was heading out to the back garden.

'Because you look like a fifteen year old in need of a cold shower,' George retorted as he strode toward Katie.

Teddy burst through the garden gate, with Andromeda following behind him. 'Harry!' he cried, launching himself at Harry's midsection, with the carelessness of someone who knew with perfect certainty that Harry would catch him.

'Hey, squirt!' Harry picked up the boy, flipping him upside down, so Teddy's head was somewhere in the vicinity of Harry's knees.

'Guess what?' Teddy shouted.

'I give up. What?'

'I did magic!'

'You did, did you?'

'Yep! I turned my teacher's hair purple!' he crowed.

'Which wasn't a very nice thing to do, Teddy,' Andromeda added.

'Why did you turn your teacher's hair purple?' asked Harry interestedly.

'She made me stay inside during recess,' he said casually. 'And I really wanted to go play football.' The men sitting at the table smothered laughs.

'It's a good thing the headmaster at his school is a Squib,' said Andromeda wearily. 'Something usually happens at least once a week. I'm almost as anxious as Teddy is for him to go to Hogwarts. At least there the turquoise hair or other 'odd' things that happen won't be looked at twice.' She looked at Harry holding a giggling Teddy. 'You'll be all right out here?' At Harry's nod, she went into the kitchen.

As Andromeda came into the kitchen, she heard Katie say, 'Six weeks and two more days. I offered them fifty Galleons each to get out, but neither of them paid a bit of attention to me.' Katie looked down her body. 'I'll be so glad when this is over,' she sighed.

Ginny arranged some cutlery into a basket and levitated a stack of plates to the door. 'Is Teddy outside?' she asked Andromeda.

'Yes, and already wound up.'

Ginny escaped the kitchen, which was rapidly getting too hot for her to stand. She took the plates out to the tables and began to set the table. Teddy slid off Harry's lap and ran to embrace Ginny. He had barely wrapped his arms around Ginny's waist when Teddy looked up at Ginny. 'Ginny, why are you so fat?'

'I'm not fat!' she said.

Teddy patted her stomach bemused. 'Yes, you are,' he insisted.

Harry grabbed Teddy's hand. 'Why don't you and I go for a bit of a walk, Teddy? And let Grannie Molly set up lunch?'

As they headed for the paddock where they played Quidditch, Harry heard Ginny ask indignantly, 'Do I look fat to you?'

Harry walked in silence, listening to Teddy chatter about his class at school and the lady who lived across the lane who had a cat with kittens. When they reached the apple tree, Harry stopped and sat down in the shade. 'Teddy, you know how Ginny looks fat right now?' Teddy nodded. 'Um… well… she and I… we're going to have a baby.'

Teddy's small brow knitted in confusion. 'How?'

'What?' Harry squeaked. He cleared his throat. 'What?'

'Why are you going to get a baby? You have me.' Teddy's hair changed into its natural sandy brown shade he wore when he was upset. It made him look more and more like Remus.

'Well, Ted, sometimes, when two people love each other, they have a baby.'

'Where does it come from? Diagon Alley?'

'Um. No. It's kind of like your neighbor's cat and her kittens.'

'Ginny's going to have six kittens?' Teddy looked seriously alarmed.

'What? No! Just one baby. It's just going to be in Ginny's tummy until it's big enough.'

'Oh, okay.' The expression on Teddy's face cleared. 'When will that be?'

'In September.'

Teddy was quiet for a minute. 'Does that mean I can't come see you anymore?' he asked with a faint note of worry in his voice.

'Oh, no, Teddy. You can some see me any time you want. Both me and Ginny.' Harry pulled the boy onto his lap and cuddled him. 'I promised your father I would help take care of you the day you were born. Ginny and me having a baby won't change that. It does _not_mean we don't love you anymore. We will always love you.' Harry kissed the top of Teddy's head. 'Come on, squirt. Grannie Molly's going to have lunch ready soon. And,' Harry added, 'she made cake for later.' Harry stood up and hoisted Teddy to his back, and they went back to the tables.

* * *

The party wound down and Teddy lay curled in Harry's arms, drowsing, with smudges of chocolate frosting around his mouth. Andromeda shrunk Teddy's gifts and stowed them in her handbag, then held her arms out for Teddy. Harry shook his head and tightened his grip on the sleeping child. 'I'll take him home for you,' he whispered. He looked at Ginny. 'Are you going to wait here, or go on home?'

'I'll go ahead and go home.' She was starting to fade.

Harry Flooed to Andromeda's home and helped Teddy into his pajamas. He wiped the smudges off Teddy's face, and tucked him into bed. Harry quietly went back down the stairs to the kitchen. Andromeda was sipping a cup of tea. 'Would you like one before you go home?' she offered.

'Yes, please,' Harry answered gratefully. He sank into a chair, and took the cup of tea, inhaling the scent. 'Better than Firewhisky.' Harry sipped his tea for a few minutes. 'Is he going to be okay? When the baby comes?'

'Teddy? It'll be difficult at first, but he'll get used to it. It just takes time.' Andromeda smiled. 'I remember when Regulus was born. Sirius was not happy about it. Of course, he was only two, and didn't quite understand the situation. Don't worry. It'll be fine.'

Harry finished his tea. 'Thanks, Andromeda. I'll pick him up next Saturday morning?'

'That's fine. We'll see you then.'

Harry Apparated to his flat and let himself in the front door. He went into the bedroom and found Ginny asleep. Shrugging, he turned and went into the kitchen. He took a butterbeer from the refrigerator and climbed out to the small balcony. Harry took a long drink from the bottle and sat with his back against the wall, looking up at the sky.

He recalled what he'd said to Ginny earlier that week. Yes, it was real. Knowing she was pregnant and _seeing_ she was pregnant were two different things. Having to explain things to Teddy made it real, too. It made him feel oddly proud of himself to know that he was responsible for it. It was also strangely arousing. Harry angled his head. He could see the bedroom door from his perch on the balcony. When he had walked in the flat, all he could think about was making love to his wife. For a brief moment, he had considered waking her, but that left him feeling slightly ashamed. So torn between lust and love, he came out here.

Harry finished his butterbeer, and went back inside. He slipped into bed. Ginny rolled over and pressed her body to his. Harry froze. Was she awake? _Damn_, he thought. She was still asleep.

Harry inhaled and slowly exhaled. It was going to be a long night.


	5. Still Waters

Ginny sat at her desk in the Quidditch section of the _Prophet_ office, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers. She was waiting for her editor to return her story. There had been a panel on the European Cup teams, and Ginny had been assigned to cover it. Unfortunately, tonight, there was also a reception at the Ministry for the panel, and she had to go. She sat back, huffily. 'What is taking him so bloody long?' she grumbled. Ryan was usually a lot faster at getting stories back for rewrites if necessary. Ginny finally made her way to Ryan's desk. 'All right, Flanagan, what gives?'

Ryan looked up at her from under his shaggy fringe. 'Pardon?'

'What is taking so damn long getting my piece done? And why is it so hot in here?' Ginny pulled her hair off her neck, in a fruitless attempt to cool off.

'Are you daft, Potter? It's not hot in here. And I just got your piece ten minutes ago…'

'Oh. Right.' Ginny scuffed the floor with the toe of her shoe for a moment. 'Do I have to go tonight?'

'Yes, Potter, you have to go tonight. You covered the panel, you have to cover the reception.' Ginny opened her mouth to argue. 'No arguments, Potter. I don't care if you're about to give birth in the Ministry Atrium and Viktor Krum delivers your kid. You will be at that reception tonight.'

Ginny went back to her desk. She was not in the mood for this. She was not a society reporter. She wrote about Quidditch games and players for Merlin's sake. She didn't want to get all dressed up, or do her hair, and spend several hours of her evening chatting with puffed-up Quidditch players and their vapid trophy-wives. Aidan Lynch was the worst of the lot. A little World Cup glory and a lot of being hit in the head by Bludgers or crash-landing in the ground gave him a rather seedy air. Like some aged rock star who was trying to cash in on his glory days, and felt that being Aidan Lynch was quite enough to get any woman in his trousers.

She tutted to herself, rather like Hermione did when people were being particularly stupid. Ginny rummaged in her desk drawer, looking for a snack. She knew from past experience that there wouldn't be more than finger-foods tonight. Some unidentifiable paste on toast points or something like that, when all she wanted was real food. She pulled out an apple and a handful off Ginger Newts. Ginny munched on the biscuits and mused on the reception. At least it gave her a chance to see Harry all dressed up.

Ginny put her feet up on her desk. It had been several months since she had really seen Harry in something besides jeans. Not that the jeans were bad. They really did outline his bum nicely. Especially the ones he had worn Sunday. Katie had caught her staring at Harry's backside while the boys picked sides for a three-a-side Quidditch game.

_Katie nudged Ginny, 'I know how you feel. Like it doesn't matter if he kept you in bed for a week straight, it wouldn't be enough.'_

'_God, yes,' Ginny muttered in reply, before blushing at her response. _

_Katie giggled and leaned over, so only Ginny could hear. 'Poor George. I think I wore him out my fifth and sixth months.'_

'_Shouldn't I feel more… I don't know… Motherly?'_

'_Who needs to feel motherly?' Bronwyn set Isabella down in the grass with a rag doll._

_Katie looked up with a gleam in her eyes. 'Oh, it's not about being motherly at all. Quite the opposite,' she smirked._

'_Oh, that!' Bronwyn grinned. 'Yeah.' _

_Ginny chewed absently at a fingernail. 'So this is __normal__? To feel like a randy teenager at the top of the Astronomy Tower?'_

'_Yep. And take my advice, don't let the opportunity pass you by. 'Cause after the baby's born, shagging is going to be the last thing on your mind,' Bronwyn said._

Ginny drifted out of her reverie. Harry's dress robes did look good on him. Really good. Ginny felt tingles in her fingertips just thinking about it. 'All right, Potter,' Ryan's voice broke through Ginny's thoughts. 'Nice article. It's fine. Go home, and don't forget,' a note of warning steeled his voice. 'The reception starts at eight. Do not be late.'

'All right, Flanagan, but don't expect some nice society article, hmmm?'

'Whatever,' he mumbled, already going back to his desk, ready to harangue the poor sod who covered Caerphilly.

Ginny gathered her bag and went outside. She stood on the street before deciding to head to the Ministry. Harry took news like this better in person. She went through the visitor's entrance, giggling as she pinned the badge to her shirt. It read 'Ginny Potter, Buttering Up Harry Potter'. She went up to the floor where his office was located and peeked around the doorway. He was talking with Shacklebolt. Ginny knocked on the partially open door. 'Hi, Gin! What are you doing here?' Harry looked surprised to see her, but pleased nonetheless.

'Got some bad news,' she said. Harry's expression changed to one of mounting alarm. 'We get the pleasure of coming to some ruddy reception for the Quidditch panel from this morning. I have to do a story on it.'

'We?'

'Yes, we. If I have to come to the bloody thing, so do you,' Ginny said, with a dangerous glint in her eye.

'Absolutely. Love sodding receptions,' Harry said automatically. 'Dress robes, I assume?'

'Oh, yeah,' Ginny grinned. Harry did a slight double-take. For a moment, she looked at him like he was a feast for one, and she was the only guest. 'Starts at eight.' She gave Harry another look, this time blatantly come-hither, and turned to leave. 'See you at home.' Harry's mouth dropped open.

'Sure,' he called weakly. He turned to Shacklebolt. 'Is it just me, or was that…' He didn't know how to complete the thought.

'Yes, it was.' Shacklebolt seemed deeply amused.

'Right.' Harry gazed at the door a moment. 'So, I think I'm going to go home and help Ginny with… something.' He all but vaulted across his desk. 'Ginny! Wait, I'm coming with you!' He heard Shacklebolt's deep laugh roll from his office, but didn't care.

Harry caught up with Ginny at the elevator. 'Hi,' he panted, looking a bit flushed.

'Hi,' she smiled.

The elevator came, and they got on, studiously avoiding each other's eyes. Harry took Ginny's hand and ran his thumb delicately over the palm and wrist. Ginny moved so she stood in front of Harry and casually leaned back so her bottom nestled against his groin. Harry's hands drifted to rest on her hips, holding her still. He tilted his head down so his mouth was next to her ear. 'If you keep wriggling that delicious arse of yours like that, I won't give a damn who sees us, I'll take you on this damn elevator.' Then, he did the unforgivable – his lips closed on her earlobe and he traced the outline of her ear with his tongue. Ginny laughed. Not just any laugh, but _the_ laugh that made Harry's knees weak.

The elevator came to a stop at the Atrium, and the two of them got off and Flooed to the flat.

They had barely stumbled out of the fireplace, before Ginny had turned to Harry, and yanked his shirttails from his jeans. Harry started to toe his trainers off, but Ginny growled, 'Not now,' and attacked his belt and zipper. Harry groaned and turned his attention to Ginny's trousers. She had slipped her hands inside his boxers and started stroking him.

'Ginny, if you keep doing that, I'm going to last about ten more seconds.' Ginny only laughed again, and helped him push her trousers out of the way. Harry picked her up and made it as far as the sofa, with Ginny's legs around his waist.

He held his breath as he slid into her. He closed his eyes and nearly bit through his lip, trying to control himself. _Okay, Harry. Think! Fastest Snitch catch in history? What was it? Hmmm. Ginny playing Seeker at school. Oh yes, God, but she was sexy as hell when she played. No… can't think like that._

'Look at me.' Harry opened his eyes. Ginny's face hovered over his. That was all he needed. He climaxed, gritting his teeth, hands tightening on her hips.

'I'm sorry,' he panted.

'Why are you sorry?' Her head rested on his shoulder.

'That wasn't very good,' he said apologetically.

'Good was not on my list of requirements at that particular moment,' she said. 'It _has_ been a while…'

'Months,' he agreed. 'Years, even.' While an exaggeration, it had felt like years. Harry thought they might want to go to the bed, but he didn't trust his knees to hold him upright.

Ginny leaned into Harry, wrapped around his body, feeling limp. She shifted to one side of him, and slid to the sofa next to him. She began to pull the rest of her clothes off. Ginny eyed Harry. His head rested against the back of the sofa, his eyes closed, breathing slowly returning to normal. 'I'd suggest going to bed, but I don't think I want to move that far,' she murmured. She reached for the buttons on Harry's shirt. 'Come on, love, let's get these clothes off, hmmm?'

Harry allowed her to undress him down to his boxers before he pulled her to spoon on the sofa. Before he drifted off to sleep, he Summoned the afghan from the armchair, and covered them both in it.

* * *

Ginny pulled the dark-blue dress on and presented her back to Harry, so he could do up her buttons. She shivered as his fingertips brushed her bare skin, as he slid each button through its loop on the other side of the back. 'Cold?' he asked.

'No. Far from it,' she replied. That afternoon on the sofa had been… Not nearly enough. Ginny realized Katie had been right. They could have spent the rest of the night on that sofa making love, or shagging, and it wouldn't have been enough.

Harry finished the last button and slid his hands up to her shoulders. Ginny turned around and pulled his head down so she could nibble his lips. 'Ginny, we're going to be late, love.' Sighing, Ginny released his mouth, but not before her hands wandered to his bum, and gave it a good squeeze. She picked up her wrap and went to the sitting room. She wondered how long they would have to stay at the reception. 'Ready?' Harry had come to stand next to her. She smiled at him.

'Depends on what you're asking what I'm ready for.'

'The reception, Ginevra,' he said mock-sternly.

Ginny cocked her head to the side, and let her gaze take in Harry in his dress robes. She took in a deep breath. 'The next time you call me Ginevra will be when you're begging me for mercy,' she said serenely as she Flooed to the Ministry Atrium.

* * *

Ginny sat at a table, making a few notes in a small notebook. She still didn't understand why on earth Flanagan was making her do this event. 'Lousy git,' she muttered mutinously under her breath. 'Total waste of my talent.' She put the notebook back into her handbag and stood up to find some food. She had sent Harry to chat up Krum, more to keep her hands off him, than for anything else. She wandered over to the tables set up with trays of hors d'oeurvres. She scooped up a few bits of pastry filled with something that vaguely looked like cheese or something and popped them in her mouth. 'Hello, Mummy!' said a smarmy voice at her side. Frowning, Ginny turned to see who it was.

'Mr. Lynch,' she said coolly.

'Aidan, darling. You know what they say about pregnant women?' he asked, the fumes of the Firewhisky he had drunk wafting over her.

'No, I'm afraid I don't,' she replied, trying to catch Harry's attention.

'That they're in need of a good shag,' he leered, one hand landing on her bottom.

'I'll thank you to remove your hand from my wife,' said a pleasant voice behind Ginny. Lynch paled as he recognized Harry and pulled his hand away from Ginny as if he'd been burned. 'And if you touch her like that again, I'll beat you to a bloody pulp,' Harry said in that same pleasant voice.

Ginny's fingertips were tingling. Harry didn't usually get so possessive, but she supposed seeing another man's hand on her arse didn't help. Harry tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and they found a deserted corner. Harry backed Ginny into the wall, and slid his hands into her hair, kissing her like he needed to mark her as his property. He was fairly sizzling with the need to posses her. She could feel it in the kiss.

He pulled his mouth from hers, 'My office,' he ground out, pulling her by the hand to an elevator. As it descended to the level with the Auror offices, he pushed her against the wall, letting his hands wander over her body. Ginny wasn't sure they were going to make it to his office when the elevator chimed 'Level Two…' Harry strode down the hall, using his wand to open the door to his office. He locked it, and put a Silencing charm on the door. He stood looking at Ginny, his eyes bright and cheeks flushed. 'Right, then.' He turned Ginny around so he could unbutton the dress. He slipped the straps off her shoulders and it pooled at her feet. Harry yanked his tie off and all but tore off his shirt and trousers.

He slid onto the desk, and lifted Ginny so she straddled him. 'Make me beg for mercy, Ginevra' he said.

The next thing Ginny could clearly remember was hearing Harry moan hoarsely, 'Please, Ginevra…' She pushed her hair out of her face and kissed him.

'All right,' she whispered, and closed her eyes, exulting in the feel of his body moving under hers.

'Merlin, Ginevra… You're going to kill me one day.' Harry's voice was ragged.

'But you'll die happy,' she sleepily retorted.

'Think we can get out of here without being seen?' he asked.

'I hope so. We're both a mess. What time is it anyway?'

Harry lifted his arm, so he could see his watch. 'After ten. This thing won't wind down until after midnight,' he said.

'Remind me to have a word with Flanagan tomorrow.'

'Got your rant worked out yet?' Harry grinned up at Ginny.

'I'm getting there. It'll end with Aidan Lynch being a sex-starved eejit who thinks it's acceptable to hit on happily married pregnant women, but that's all I've got right now.'

'That's plenty for me.' With a groan, Harry sat up. He kissed Ginny softly. 'Let's go home.' He helped her back into her dress and used magic to do the buttons. He quickly dressed, and they went back to the Atrium, wrapped around each other in the elevator.

They snuck to the line of fireplaces and Flooed to the flat.

* * *

Ginny wrung out the sponge and sprinkled more Mrs. Scower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover into the tub. The porcelain already sparkled, but it wasn't good enough. She heaved a sigh and began to scrub the bottom and sides. It was almost a pity that they would have to actually use the thing later. Ginny rinsed the tub and examined the floor. She found a pail and brush in the broom cupboard and filled it with hot water and a handful of Mrs. Scower's. She had just started to scrub the floor when she heard a knock on the door. Grumbling about people who didn't know they weren't wanted beforehand, Ginny hauled herself to her feet, and went to open the door.

Arthur stood on the doormat, levitating a large bulky package wrapped in brown paper. 'Am I interrupting anything?'

'Not at all, Dad,' Ginny said, forgetting her earlier sentiment. Arthur enjoyed coming over to their flat. He loved the Muggle-ness of it. Especially the toaster. She opened the door wider and moved to the side. 'What is that?' Ginny asked, pointing to the package Arthur was attempting to maneuver through the door.

'Something your mum and I want you to have.' Arthur set the package on the hearthrug. 'Go ahead. Open it.'

Ginny pulled the paper off to reveal a rocking chair. 'This is Mum's,' she said.

'It's yours now, Gin. Molly thought you would like it.' Arthur traced the curving line of the back. 'Her brother Gideon made it. Before Bill was born. She used it for all of you.'

Ginny nodded, tears trickling down her face. She wiped them off with a handkerchief she had stuffed in her jeans pocket. 'Stay for some tea, Dad?'

'I'd love to.' Arthur paused. 'Could I make some toast, too?' he asked eagerly.

'Of course, Dad.' Ginny grinned as Arthur bounded into the kitchen, and began to pile slices of bread into the toaster. 'Don't spoil your dinner. Mum will kill me!' she called.

After Arthur left, Ginny stood next to the rocker. It was beautiful. Made of oak, it had been carved with flowering vines. Ginny lowered herself into it and gently began to rock, her hands resting on her stomach. She remembered Molly rocking her in it as a little girl. One of her earliest memories was climbing into it with her doll, and rocking the doll to sleep.

Ginny sat up straight when she felt something flutter inside her. 'Oh,' she breathed. The flutter rippled through her again. Ginny leaned back in the chair. 'Hello.'


	6. Strawberries

Harry woke up early one Sunday in May. Ginny had thrown off everything but the sheet at some time in the night. She didn't even sleep in proper nightclothes anymore, just one of Harry's t-shirts. Everything else was too hot, she had told him. Harry tried to slip out of bed without waking Ginny. He pushed his glasses on his face, and the room swam into focus. Ginny was sprawled on her back, the t-shirt rucked up under her breasts. Harry leaned against the wall, and reveled in being able to look at Ginny's body. She hadn't gone totally shy on him yet, but she was getting a little self-conscious about it.

Shaking himself, he went to the kitchen, where an owl waited with the Sunday _Prophet_. Harry paid the owl, and took the paper and a mug of tea to the balcony. The sun was just rising and the air was still cool in London. Harry stretched his feet out in front of him. It was the twenty-third, and Ginny had fifteen more weeks to go. Katie was due any day now. Poor George was a wreck. Every sound, every move that Katie made, George was convinced Katie was about to give birth.

Harry had been at the joke shop last week, and Katie had been sitting behind the counter, frowning at a piece of parchment in front of her.

'_Hi, Katie!' he said brightly._

'_Hi,' she said distractedly. _

'_I thought you were supposed to be resting?' Katie had been told to stay off her feet, and had taken a leave of absence from __Witch Weekly_

_Katie looked up at him irritably. 'I __am__ resting,' she growled. 'See? Sitting on a stool and everything.'_

'_Oh, yeah. Right.' Harry nervously rubbed a hand over his hair, and looked around the shop. 'George and Ron around?'_

'_They're in the back.' Katie jabbed a thumb at the magenta curtain._

'_Thanks.' Harry started for the curtain, and stopped as he passed the counter. 'What are you doing?' he asked curiously._

'_Trying to pick a name for one of the Twin Terrors in there,' she said pointing to her stomach. 'Will you please not use Mummy's bladder as a trampoline?' she said desperately. 'Oh, bloody, effing hell,' she grumbled. 'I'd really like to go longer than ten minutes without becoming acquainted with the loo again, you know,' she muttered to her stomach. As she slid off the stool, Katie shoved the parchment toward Harry. 'Could you take a look at these? We just need one.'_

'_I take it one will be Fred, no matter if they're boys or girls?' Katie nodded and disappeared up the stairs to the flat over the shop. The door upstairs slammed and George poked a cautious head through the curtain._

'_She go upstairs?' At Harry's nod, George eased out from behind the curtain, nervously looking up toward the ceiling._

'_George?'_

'_Huh?' George's head snapped toward Harry._

'_Is everything okay?'_

'_Oh, yeah.' George seemed distracted. Katie emerged from the stairs, and slowly waddled back to the stool. George stared at her intently._

'_Will you stop?' she sighed. 'I'm not in labor!'_

'_Are you sure?'_

'_George, I promise, when I go into labor, you will be the first person I tell, all right?' Katie hauled herself back on the stool. She pulled the list back toward her. 'George?'_

'_Huh?'_

'_You're doing it again.' Katie propped her head on one of her hands, and glared at him. 'Why don't you and Harry go get something to eat?' When George still stared at her, Katie added, 'Somewhere that's not here?'_

'_I can't leave you alone!' George protested._

'_I'm not alone,' Katie sighed, bringing her head to rest on the counter. 'Ron's here.' She rolled her head to the side and looked at Harry pleadingly. 'Please, Harry? Just get him out of my hair for an hour?' Gulping, Harry nodded. 'And take the list with you. I can't look at the effing thing anymore.'_

_Harry took George by the elbow and propelled him to the door. 'She used to be such a nice pleasant kind of person,' Harry mused. He raised an eyebrow and looked at George sideways. 'I blame you, you know.'_

'_So do I, mate.'_

'Hey.' Ginny's sleepy voice brought him back to the present. Harry looked up from the folded paper in his lap. He pulled his wand from the pocket of his pajama bottoms, and waved it gracefully, conjuring a chair for Ginny. He had mastered Dumbledore's knack of conjuring comfortable chairs. 'Thanks,' she said, sinking into it.

'Nice outfit,' Harry commented. 'I think the lack of knickers just ties it together, you know?'

'I could have sworn I went to bed wearing some,' Ginny said thoughtfully. 'They were pink. I'd bet my life on it.' She pulled the hem of the t-shirt down toward her knees.

'I have no idea what happened to them,' Harry muttered into his tea, turning slightly pink around the edges.

'Are you sure? They had little Snitches and hearts printed on them,' Ginny prompted.

'Oh,_those_ knickers,' Harry said in mock-comprehension. 'Right, I think they're under my pillow or something.'

Ginny closed her eyes. 'I don't even want to know…'

Harry snickered. 'Says the woman who attacked me when I got into bed last night.'

'It's the hormones. Can't control it.'

'What happens when you don't have the hormones to blame anymore?'

'Erm…' Ginny flushed a bright red. 'Take it while you can, mister. After the beginning of September, you'll probably be in for something of a drought.'

Harry made a face, then shrugged. 'If you say so.' He scrambled to his feet, and ducked back inside for more tea. 'You hungry?' he called through the large window.

'Do you need to ask?' she answered.

'Eggs? Cereal?'

'Cereal's fine. And some toast. And strawberries. And tea.'

'One cup,' he said threateningly.

'Fine,' she grumbled. She'd sneak some at the Burrow anyway.

Harry conjured a small table next to Ginny, and levitated two empty bowls, a carton of milk, a plate of toast, and a large bowl of strawberries. Ginny craved them, and he would be lucky to get a few of them. Watching her eat them was nearly unbearable. He could swear she did it deliberately, goading him, just like she had when she came to the Ministry a couple of weeks ago. Not that he needed much of a push in that direction anyway…

Harry shook his head and poured a large mug of tea for Ginny. The Healer said one or two a day would be okay, but Harry wanted to play it safe. He knew she would change the chamomile or mint tea that he insisted on at the Burrow into regular tea anyway. 'Here, Gin.' He held out the mug through the window, and passed a box of cereal out to her. Refilling his own mug, Harry climbed back out to the balcony and settled on the floor, setting his mug next to him. 'So George was looking antsy last week.'

'Can you blame him? Katie looks like she's about to pop.'

'She's looked like that for a month,' Harry retorted.

'You're not going to be like that with me, are you?' Ginny pegged him with a beady-eyed look.

'Only after I hide your wand.' Harry grinned cheekily up at Ginny. 'I prefer to keep things where they are,' he said, resting a protective hand on the front of his pajama bottoms.

'Git,' she muttered, biting into a strawberry. She ignored Harry's sharp intake of breath, and licked the juice from her fingers. Just for that, she was going to eat the whole bowl of strawberries. Ginny picked up the bowl, put her feet on the table, and settled the bowl on the bulge that was getting to be more and more pronounced.

Harry reached up for a strawberry, but Ginny slapped his hand away. 'If you want a strawberry, you have to earn it,' she informed him loftily.

'Define "earn it",' he challenged her.

Ginny doled five berries into her empty cereal bowl. 'You can have those,' she said. 'If…'

'If?' he prompted.

'I haven't figured that out yet.'

Harry's hand snaked up her thigh and vanished under the hem of the t-shirt. 'What if I'm a very good boy?'

'That's for me to decide, isn't it?'

'How 'bout I show you what a very good boy I can be?' Harry rose to his knees, nuzzling Ginny's neck, before his hand pushed up the hem of the t-shirt. 'I'd lose that bowl right now, if I were you.' Then his hair brushed against the skin of her thighs. Ginny hissed, her hands lacing into Harry's hair, scooting closer to the edge of the seat of the chair.

* * *

Harry grinned smugly at Ginny, before he took a bite of his strawberry. She cracked open an eye, and squinted at him. 'That's all nice and good for me, but what about you?' 

His grin got wider. 'We don't have to be at your mum and dad's until one.' Harry checked his watch. 'It's barely eight now. We've got time.'

Ginny raised an eyebrow in response. She slid bonelessly off the chair, and landed in Harry's lap, straddling him. She picked up a strawberry, and held it to his lips. 'Your reward…' she murmured. Harry's eyes stared into hers, as he nibbled the strawberry, then pulled her fingers into his mouth, sucking the juice off them. 'You're in so much trouble,' she gasped, reaching into his boxers.

Harry groaned as he slid into Ginny. 'My favorite kind,' he rasped.

* * *

Ginny pulled the dress over her head, and adjusted the top. 'And you wonder why Lynch hit on you,' Harry mocked gently from the doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist. 'You're quite the sexy mummy.' 

'Why does that not sound pervy coming from you, but oh-so-pervy coming from him?'

Harry pulled on a clean pair of boxers, and rummaged in the wardrobe for a clean t-shirt. 'Maybe because I'm not using it as a cheesy pick-up line?' Harry's head disappeared into the depths of the t-shirt, before his head popped through the neck. 'Besides, how could you not be sexy?'

'If I wasn't sleeping with you, I'd swear you were trying to get into my knickers,' Ginny commented dryly, putting on a pair of sandals.

'I'd have much better pick-up lines than Lynch, I promise,' Harry laughed. He pulled on a pair of jeans, and quickly tied the laces of his trainers. 'Ready to go?'

'Yeah.' Ginny pushed herself out of the armchair. 'Let's go.'

* * *

They Flooed to the Burrow, only to be met with the sounds of… Nothing. It was totally quiet in the house. 'This can't be good,' commented Ginny. 

'I don't smell lunch,' added Harry. 'So not good.'

'Check the back?' Ginny asked. She was getting slightly worried. 'D'you think Katie had the twins and nobody told us?'

Harry let out a bark of laughter. 'Not bloody likely in this family.' He took Ginny's hand and they passed through an eerily silent kitchen and went into the back garden. The whole family was out there, gathered around something.

'Ginny! Harry!' Molly hurried over to them. She grasped Harry's arm tightly. 'You have to try and talk some sense into Arthur!' she hissed in Harry's ear. 'He says he's going to cook on that thing!'

Mystified, Harry turned to ask Ginny what was going on, but she had a puzzled look on her face too. 'What on earth has Dad picked up this time?' she asked in an undertone to Molly.

'Merlin knows,' Molly sighed.

Arriving at the knot of Weasleys, Harry looked over Ron's shoulder. 'It's a barbecue grill!' he exclaimed.

'Oh, so you know what it is!' beamed Arthur.

'Yeah.' Harry gulped. He could feel Molly's laser-like glare on the back of his head. He sent a desperate look to Hermione for help.

'It's like cooking over the campfire at the World Cup,' Hermione helpfully added.

'Oh, marvelous!' Arthur clapped his hands together and briskly rubbed them together. He lowered his voice conspiratorially, 'Do you think we could use magic to get it started?'

'Don't you need charcoal, Dad?' asked Charlie.

Arthur bent and heaved up a bag. 'I've got some,' he said brightly. 'I went to the village yesterday and bought a bag,' he said, pleased with this foresight.

'Fine,' sighed Molly. She turned to go back inside. 'I'll make some sandwiches, just in case…' she muttered.

Arthur shooed the women away from his precious grill. With Hermione's help he got the charcoal lit, and read the instructions on the bag. 'It says we need to wait until they're grey.' He peered at the layer of charcoal in the bottom of the grill, expecting it to be grey instantly.

'It'll take a while, Arthur,' Hermione told him. 'About twenty minutes.'

'Oh, all right then.' Arthur Summoned a chair from the tables set up outside and sat close to the grill, waiting impatiently.

Ginny patted Harry on the arm. 'Why don't you stay here and do the chest-pounding thing with Dad?' she suggested. 'I'm going to go sit down.' Harry absently nodded and plopped down in the grass. He was just as fascinated with the grill as Arthur was. Aunt Petunia had never let Uncle Vernon have one. She felt they were too dirty.

Ron folded his lanky frame next to Harry. 'So…'

'So?'

Ron gestured back at Ginny. 'She's doing all right?'

Harry twisted his head to look at Ginny, who had just sat next to Katie in the shade. 'Better than Katie, it seems.' Katie looked preoccupied something. Not to mention a little pale. Harry stretched out on his back, and closed his eyes.

'You all right, mate?'

'Yeah, it's just… Ginny… I don't know if it's the hormones or if she's always been like this, but she's bloody insatiable.'

Ron made gagging noises. 'Ugh. I'd really prefer to not hear about you and my baby sister.'

Harry opened his eyes. 'Fine, then. When Hermione gets like this, don't say I didn't warn you.'

Ron ripped up a few pieces of grass and began to shred them. 'How long did you and Ginny try before she…?'

'We weren't,' Harry admitted. 'It just happened.'

'You're joking!'

'Nope,' Harry admitted sheepishly. 'The one time in over four years we didn't use a condom.' Harry nudged Ron's foot. 'Don't worry about it. It'll happen.' Ron sighed moodily. 'And don't rush things. I got plenty of on-the-job training with Teddy. Believe me, getting up three times in the middle of the night, changing poopy diapers, and trying to figure out how on earth they get porridge on the ceiling is not something you want to rush into.'

'Yeah,' agreed Bill, who had caught the tail end of the conversation. 'Then she'll want to have another, and when she does, she'll have a string of days where she doesn't get out of her pajamas, the older one won't let go of her long enough so she can go to the loo, and the baby won't stop crying. And you, in all your glory, saunter into the house, expecting to be greeted with dinner, get handed a squalling baby, have a three-year old attached to your trouser leg, and be told in no uncertain terms that she is going to go upstairs, and have a long hot bath without interruptions for at least an hour. And not to bother asking for help, because she is putting a Silencing charm on the door.'

'Did that really happen?' Ron looked a bit queasy.

'Just once,' Bill assured him. 'When Maddie was about two months old and Victoire got into a clingy stage.' Bill patted Ron on the head. 'Usually it's not that bad.'

'Is George okay?' Harry asked suddenly. 'He seems tense.' Bill and Ron swiveled their heads, to see George hovering uncertainly over Katie.

'Katie? Do you need anything? Glass of lemonade? Water?' George was getting scared. Katie hadn't eaten breakfast, and she kept rubbing her stomach.

'Water would be great. Thanks.' Katie leaned back in her chair and shifted uncomfortably. It seemed like no position she sat in was comfortable. She hadn't slept much last night, either. George set a glass of cold water on the table in front of her. Katie reached up and touched the side of his face in thanks, and took a few sips. Not that she wanted the water, really, but it would make George feel better. She shifted again, trying to find a position that didn't make her back hurt.

'Katie, are you sure you're okay?' George asked.

'I'm fi – ' Katie's face scrunched as her hand found George's and grasped it. Hard. George flinched. It felt like Katie was trying to grind the bones together. After a few seconds – although they felt like hours to George – Katie relaxed.

'What the bloody hell was that?' George demanded.

'I think we need to go,' Katie panted.

'Go? Go where?' George asked stupidly.

'St. Mungo's, your great prat!'

'Why?'

'Do you want me to give birth on the kitchen table?' Katie asked menacingly.

'Uh, no, of course not,' George stuttered. Trying to calm his whirling thoughts, George helped Katie out of the chair and tried to herd her to the sitting room. Unfortunately, his busybody family got in the way, offering advice and generally impeding their progress to the fireplace. 'All right. Enough!' George shouted. 'Get the hell out of my way. We,' he pointed to Katie, then himself, 'are going to St. Mungo's right effing now.' He glared at the rest of the brood. 'You can follow us, but for Merlin's sake, get out of the way!'

The entire family was stunned into silence and George and Katie disappeared in a burst of green flames.

Charlie cleared his throat. 'Before we go, someone needs to go throw an_ Aguamenti_ on that grill, eh?'

* * *

George paced outside the room. The Healer had made him leave while they examined Katie. He hated this. He hated waiting. Patience was not really a Weasley virtue. And if anything happened to Katie, he wasn't sure he'd be able to come out of that. Losing Fred nearly killed him. Losing Katie would finish the job, George thought. They hadn't even decided on a name for the other twin. George pulled the list from his back pocket. Katie had circled a few of them. Trevor… No, that was what Neville had named his toad in school. Tristan… Too… Just no. George ran his finger down the list. Jacob? Maybe. George tried the phrase out in his head. _Jacob Weasley what do you think you're doing with your baby sister?_ he thought. That worked. 

'Mr. Weasley?' The Healer's voice broke through George's thoughts. 'You can come back in, now.'

'Thanks.' George pushed himself off the wall and went to stand by Katie's bed. 'How do you feel about Jacob?' he asked

'I like Jacob.' She tensed for a few moments gripping the edge of the sheet tightly, then relaxed as the contraction passed. 'No girls' names?'

'Nope. I have a feeling.' George gave her a mischievous grin.

* * *

'How come you can't hear anything?' Harry asked idly. 

'They put Silencing charms on the doors,' said Bronwyn. 'Makes it easier for everyone.'

'Oh.' Harry fidgeted in his chair restlessly. 'How long will it take?'

Bronwyn shrugged. 'Depends. Could be a few hours, could be a lot of hours.'

Harry eyed Ginny, who was sitting across the room. 'What happens if it's a lot of hours?'

'We try not to intervene unless we have to,' Bronwyn said gently. 'And giving them something for the pain is up to the mother.'

'What about something for the father?' Harry asked, a crooked grin on his face.

Bronwyn chuckled. 'Sometimes a Calming draught. But most seem to be all right.'

* * *

Several hours later, George held out his arms. The Healer placed a squirming bundle in them. 'Hi, Fred,' he whispered, kissing his new son on the downy curve of his head. He looked at Katie, who was propped up on pillows, cuddling Jacob. 'Good job, Mum,' he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

'Thanks.' Katie smiled up at him wearily.

'Want to let everyone in?' George asked, his face set in seemingly permanent lines of contentment.

'Yeah,' Katie whispered. She nuzzled Jacob. George nodded to the Healer who returned in a few moments with the rest of the family.

Harry stood behind Ginny, his hands resting on the curve of their unborn child, watching wide-eyed as the babies were passed around and cooed over. Fred landed in Ginny's arms. Harry ran a trembling forefinger over the baby's petal-soft skin. He'd been around when the others were born, but this was a lot different. He hadn't been three-and-a-half months away from becoming a father, then.

Harry released Ginny, and took a step back, just watching Ginny croon to the baby, who blinked at her in a bemused sort of way. Was it him, or was the room spinning, and why wouldn't it stop?

Harry swayed, then dropped like a rock, landing gracefully at Ginny's feet.

* * *

A/N: I really didn't peg Harry for a fainter. It was supposed to be George. Really! 

Thanks for the reads and the reviews. :)

If you've read _Questions and Answers_, I mentioned Al and Lily's births, and I'm planning to do them, too. In case anyone would like to look for it.


	7. Midnight Conversations

Harry jerked his head away from the pungent scent wafting under his nose. He opened his eyes to find every single Weasley – except for Katie, of course – standing over him with concerned looks on their faces. Bronwyn capped the smelling salts and got to her feet. 'What happened?'

'You fainted!' Ron was failing miserably from keeping the grin off his face. He held out a hand to help Harry to his feet.

Ginny held Fred closer to her face. 'Did you see that, Fred? That's your uncle Harry. He defeated the Darkest wizard of all time, but a tiny new baby takes him out at the knees.' Ginny tutted. She carefully transferred Fred to Hermione and looked at Harry, her hands on her hips. 'Never pegged you for a fainter, Potter.' She shook her head sadly. 'Here.' She dug into her handbag and handed a Galleon to Charlie. 'My money was on George.'

'You bet on who was going to faint first?' asked Harry incredulously.

'Of course we did,' said Bill.

'Charlie thought it was going to hit you today. Said you looked about as pale as Nearly-Headless Nick,' Ron informed Harry, handing Charlie a Galleon.

'Looks like the rest of us were wrong,' Percy sighed. 'You let me down, George. I figured it had to be you with twins and all.'

George turned to Katie. 'Did you tell them I fainted when you told me you were pregnant?'

Katie began to laugh, but stopped, wincing. 'Don't make me laugh. It hurts. And no, I didn't say a word, but you just told everybody.'

The Healer came in and shooed everyone out on the grounds that Katie needed some sleep.

* * *

Harry got out of bed and went into the other bedroom of the flat. They were going to move into the house after the baby was born. He picked up the teddy bear Ginny had put in the rocker and took its place. 

Teddy's bed was against one wall, and they had taken his old cot from the storage unit in the basement and set it up on the opposite wall. The mural was still on the wall over Teddy's bed. Harry watched the stag canter around the wall with the wolf and black dog. He wondered if his own father had felt like this before he was born.

He could see George pace the hallway every time the Healer sent him out, eyes glued on the door of the room, until he was allowed to go back inside. It reminded him of a panther he had seen at the zoo once.

He was only partially right when he told Ron about getting on-the-job training with Teddy. By the time Harry had moved into this flat, and had Teddy on his own for visits, Teddy was a year old. Up to that point, he had Molly or Arthur to help out on the weekends Teddy came to stay with Harry. And, he was able to give him back to Andromeda on Sunday afternoon.

No, that wasn't the same as doing this all the time.

Harry focused on the stag. 'Dad, were you scared?' he whispered. 'Because I am. When did it dawn on you that it wasn't just you to worry about anymore, it was you and Mum, and me?' The stag reared and leapt over a stream Dean had painted on the wall. 'I'll bet you never fainted,' he muttered darkly. 'And George will never let me live that down,' he sighed. 'Neither will Ginny,' he added, rubbing the back of his neck. 'I'd better not faint when this one's born. I think even Molly wouldn't let me forget that.'

Harry held the teddy on his lap and rocked for several more minutes. He rubbed his face, and rose from the chair, replacing the teddy, and went back to bed.

* * *

Ginny was sitting at her desk, ink smudged on her nose. Flanagan was being impossible today. He'd sent everyone's stories back at least twice. She was hot, irritable, and her ankles were swollen. And she'd shown up at work wearing two different shoes. Worse, she didn't realize it until someone mentioned something. Ginny couldn't see her own feet anymore. They were out of toothpaste and one of them needed to go buy some more, but with the way Flanagan was behaving, she had been lucky to have lunch at her desk. And the baby seemed to enjoy bouncing on her bladder, so she had to go to the loo every ten minutes. _Okay, maybe not every ten minutes_, Ginny reasoned, _but it sure feels like it_. 

She leaned back in her chair. Little Sam-I-Am had decided to stop bouncing on Mummy's bladder, and was now turning somersaults. Ginny watched in fascination as her top undulated with the movements. He or she was getting a lot more active, and Ginny found it harder and harder to sleep. She knew if she didn't sleep, Harry didn't sleep either. Ginny yawned, feeling like her face would split in two. 'Wake up, Potter.' Flanagan's voice hammered into Ginny's head.

She glared at him balefully. 'I _am_ awake,' she said. _Git_, she said silently.

'Rewrite the sections, I've marked,' Flanagan snapped, slapping the parchment on the desk.

'Flanagan, I've rewritten those same bloody sections four times!' Ginny protested.

'You will rewrite them until I'm happy,' he said coldly. 'And if you don't, I'll find someone who will.'

'Go ahead,' she challenged. To say Ginny was not in a good mood was an understatement.

'You think because you're Harry Potter's wife you can do whatever you want, eh?'

'No, you dimwit. It's because I'm a bloody good writer, and those sections are perfect. I refuse to rewrite them because you're in the mood to pick on someone!' Ginny snarled. She yanked open her desk drawer, pulled out her bag, and slammed the drawer shut. 'It's five o'clock, and I'm going home.' Ginny stood and shoved her chair under the desk. 'I'll see you tomorrow.' With that, she turned and limped out on her mismatched shoes.

Ginny stumbled out of the fireplace, and dropped her bag on the floor. She went into the bedroom and stretched out on the bed, toeing her shoes off and dropping them off the side of the bed. She regarded her ankles in dismay. That just couldn't be normal. They were huge. It reminded her of the days her mother baked bread, and the loaves were set to rise. 'Gin? You home?'

'I swear I'm going to send the biggest Bat-Bogey to Flanagan that I can do.'

'Tough day?' Harry came into the bedroom and sat on the foot of the bed.

'He's a sadist. I hate him.'

'More than Snape?' Harry's eyebrows rose. The strongest thing Ginny had ever called Snape was a git.

'More than Umbridge.'

'Wow.'

'At least I could be subversive with Umbridge.'

'True. You want dinner?'

'Not really. I'm not very hungry, and if I do get hungry later, I'm more than capable of feeding myself!' she snapped. Ginny blinked. _Where had that come from?_

'I know that,' Harry said mildly.

'Sorry,' she mumbled. 'It's just my ankles are swollen to the size of Russia, and I wore two different shoes all day, because I wasn't paying attention this morning, and didn't realize it until I got to work. And Flanagan was an arse on top of it all…'

Harry's gaze flicked to her ankles. They were swollen, but they didn't seem _that_ big. 'Gin? They're supposed to be swollen… You're pregnant.' As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Harry smacked himself on the forehead. He did the one thing Arthur told him never to do – mention the ankles.

Ginny turned a murderous gaze on him. 'My. Ankles. Are. Not. Pregnant!' she hissed.

'Of course they're not,' Harry agreed. It was irrational, but he'd learned pregnant women weren't always rational. He slid off the bed, and retreated to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich.

Ginny sighed, and curled on her side to take a nap. She might as well get some sleep while she could.

And they were still out of toothpaste.

* * *

'You look like hell,' Harry observed when he met George and Ron for lunch the next day. George looked like he hadn't combed his hair in days, and like he had slept in his clothes. 

'I feel like hell,' George responded wearily. 'I don't understand how Mum did it with Fred and me, when she had Bill, Charlie, and Percy to worry about, too. If Fred cries, Jacob does, too. If Jacob's hungry, so is Fred. And don't get me started on the nappies. You don't always get to ­_Scourgify_ them right away. Jacob peed in my face the other day.' George exhaled noisily and let his head fall to the table with a loud _thump_. 'Katie and I haven't slept more than two hours at a time.'

'I thought you were supposed to sleep when the babies did,' said Ron around a mouthful of sandwich.

'Nice theory, but horrible in practice,' moaned George.

'Um… Why?' Harry almost didn't want to hear the answer.

'Because they don't sleep at the same time. Fred thinks it's day during the night, and Jacob seems to sleep when Fred's awake, just to make things difficult.' George scrubbed a hand over his face. 'Remind me to thank Mum next time I see her. For not drowning Fred and me at birth.'

'Note to self,' muttered Ron. 'Don't have twins.'

'I said that to myself,' mused George. 'It didn't work. I kept thinking about all the havoc Fred and I created, and thought unleashing all that again on an unsuspecting world might be bad form.'

'You never know,' Harry said. 'They might end up like Bill or Charlie. Or even Percy.'

'Stop. Stop it right there. I could handle two Bills or Charlies running around my house. But two Percys? Isn't that going overboard on the punishment for the pranks I pulled when I was younger?' objected George.

'You could have two who are just like Ginny,' Ron offered.

George just closed his eyes. While they had often thought of Ginny as a nuisance when she was a baby, she was ferociously stubborn and much craftier than all of them put together when she wanted to be. George often thought that if Mum had had Ginny first, she might have been the last. 'No girls,' he stated. 'I love my wife, but there is no way I want to attempt to try raising a girl.'

'Why not?' Ron was truly interested.

'Think about it, Ronnikins,' George said. 'Remember what you were like when you were sixteen?' Ron blushed. He did remember, and it wasn't something he liked to be reminded of. 'She'll be going out boys who want to do to her what you did with Lavender.' George shook his head vehemently. 'My daughter will do that over my dead body.'

* * *

Ginny finally stopped tossing, and went to sleep, worn out from dealing with Flanagan, and Sam-I-Am's activities. Harry rolled over to watch her sleep. He wished it could be easier. He was surprised at how strong the nudges were on the outside, and he could only imagine what it was like for Ginny. The book, which was getting rather dog-eared from his reading of it, said the baby could hear him, so once Ginny went to sleep, Harry would quietly rearrange himself and talk to Sam-I-Am, keeping his voice pitched low, so as not to awaken Ginny. 

'Hi there.' Harry laid a hand softly on the distended curve of Ginny's abdomen. 'You're probably going to wonder one day why my parents aren't around to spoil you. They died when I was a baby. But that doesn't mean they're not still here. You just can't see them. But they're here. They'll always be here in some way.

'One day you'll learn how to make a Patronus. Hopefully, you won't have to learn it as early as I did, but it's really neat when you do one. It depends on the witch or wizard as to what the form is. Your mum's is a horse. I wasn't surprised by it the first time she produced it. Don't underestimate your mum. She's one amazing lady.' Harry thought for a few minutes. 'Uncle Ron's is a Jack Russell terrier. That's a lot like your uncle Ron, too. Tenacious as hell. Aunt Hermione's is an otter. I looked it up one day. What it meant. And believe me, nothing else would fit your Aunt Hermione.

'Mine is a stag. I'll show it to you one day, when you're older. And you'll understand what I mean when I say the people who love us don't always leave when they die. See, my dad was an Animagus, and one day, I'll tell you why he became one. And his Animagus form was a stag. His friends at school called him Prongs. But I think my Patronus is a stag because it means my dad is watching over me. Well, us, now.' Harry paused. 'At least, that's what I like to think.

Tomorrow, I'll tell you about Sirius and Remus.' Harry kissed his fingertips and brushed them across Ginny's stomach. 'G'nite.' He settled into his pillow, and closed his eyes.

Ginny opened her eyes, and smiled.

* * *

'Sirius was my godfather. I didn't know about him until I was thirteen. Remember how I told you my parents died when I was a baby? Well, a very Dark wizard killed them, and Sirius was blamed for it. He didn't do it, but people thought he told him where they were hiding. Anyway, he was accused of a crime he didn't do, and spent twelve years in Azkaban. He was an Animagus, too. His form was a black dog, which makes sense… Sirius Black. Get it?' Harry chuckled to himself. 'Oh, well, your mum thinks I'm funny. His nickname around Dad and Remus was Padfoot. Anyway, Sirius escaped from Azkaban, and came to find me. He did, too. 

'For a brief moment, I thought I was going to be able to leave my aunt and uncle's house and go live with Sirius. But not that time. Sirius sent me a Firebolt my third year, too. Because my Nimbus ended up in the Whomping Willow. But that's another story.

'I hoped that I would be able to go live with Sirius, but he died at the end of my fifth year in a battle.

'I miss him. I miss him more than my parents. Does that sound strange? Maybe. But I got to know Sirius, and I never really knew my mum and dad.

'Remus was one of my dad's best friends. Sirius was another. Remus had a "furry little problem". He was a werewolf. That's why they called him Moony. He was one of the best teachers I ever had. And one of the best people I knew. He's the reason Sirius and Dad became Animagi. To help during the full moon. They could help control Remus in his wolf form. Remus kept me from thinking I was crazy my third year. He's the one who taught me to produce a Patronus when I was only in third year.

'Remus died, too. In the last battle. Both him and his wife. Their son, Teddy, is my godson. You'll see him a lot.

'Anyway, there's a mural in your room. It's a stag, a wolf, and a shaggy black dog. It's for the three of them.'

Harry yawned. He nuzzled the baby before scooting up to his pillow.

* * *

Harry looked up from the book he was reading. It was some Muggle book he had picked up one afternoon in London. It was about somebody named Elizabeth Bennett. She wasn't too keen on this Mr. Darcy, though. Her sister really liked somebody called Mr. Bingley, but his sisters didn't like her. It was kind of a swotty book, but he liked it. 

Ginny had finally fallen asleep. He hoped she would be able to get a decent night's sleep. She was having trouble sleeping lately. Harry closed the book and laid it on his night table. He carefully slid down to the middle of the bed.

Tonight was the important talk.

Tonight, he would explain Quidditch.

'Hiya Sam. I'm going to tell you about one of the best things about being a wizard – Quidditch.

'There are four balls: a Quaffle – it's red; two Bludgers – black; and a golden Snitch. The Bludger and Snitch can fly. There are three Chasers, two Beaters, a Keeper, and a Seeker.'

Harry was lying on his side, head propped up on one elbow, face next to Ginny's stomach, his other hand resting on it, as he continued to whisper the ins and outs of Quidditch to his unborn child.

'The Beaters hit the Bludgers toward other players to try and keep them from scoring, and the Keeper guards his goalposts from the other team. The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try to put it through one of three hoops at the end of the field. If you can do that, you get ten points. The Seeker looks for the Snitch. It's very fast and small so you have to have a really good eye to see it, and you have to be one hell of a flyer.' The baby kicked in response.

'You want to be a Seeker, don't you?' The baby kicked again. 'I'll take that as a yes.' Harry smiled. 'The Seeker usually wins the game. The Snitch is worth one hundred and fifty points.

'Your grandfather, my dad, was a Chaser for Gryffindor. So was your mum. She played professionally, too, you know. One of the best Chasers on the Holyhead Harpies. I played at Hogwarts on the Gryffindor team with your Uncle Ron, Uncle Fred, Uncle George, Aunt Katie, and your mum. I was a Seeker.'

Harry looked at the alarm clock on his bedside table, and noticed it was getting to be quite late. Or early, depending on how you wanted to see it. He kissed Ginny's stomach. 'Good night, little one. And tomorrow, I'll tell you all about the time your Uncle Fred and Uncle George made an impossible bet on the World Cup – and won,' he whispered, conspiratorially. Harry quietly slid under the duvet.

'I was _the_ best Chaser on the Harpies,' Ginny murmured sleepily.

'You heard that?'

'Every word.' Ginny reached over, and squeezed his hand.

'You think I've gone barmy, don't you?'

'Not at all. But could you talk to Sam-I-Am when I'm awake? You get him all worked up…' Ginny trailed off as she went back to sleep.

* * *

A/N: When I was student teaching, one of the other ladies in my class did wear two different shoes to school that day, and spent the entire day, not only wearing two different styles of shoes, but they were two different colors! She never noticed until our class met for a seminar in the afternoon, and somebody said something. Nobody had said a word to her all day. And no, she was not pregnant. 

I did have a friend who had a baby this past spring, and the 'my ankles are not pregnant' line was one she dropped on her husband when he told her that she was pregnant, and her ankles were supposed to be swollen.

I like the idea of Harry reading Jane Austen. :) Maybe AU, but you never know what someone will read when they've grown up a bit.


	8. August and Everything After

Harry was starting to hate the month of August. When he was younger, he loved August. It meant it was nearly time to go back to school. It meant time at the Burrow after being stuck at the Dursleys. August was carefree days, bragging how far you could throw a gnome.

He missed those days.

He had come home a few days ago and walked into what felt like the refrigerator. This was climate control with teeth.

'_Ginny!' he bellowed. 'What is going on? It's arse-bitingly cold in here!'_

'_It's not that bad,' she called from the kitchen._

'_Not that bad? I can practically see my breath in here!'_

'_Oh, stop exaggerating. It's no colder than the Potions classroom.'_

'_Without the fires,' he retorted._

'_Harry, come on… It's the middle of August, I'm boiling hot, and it's finally cool enough in here that I'm not just one giant sweaty mass of pregnant lady.' Ginny's eyes softened as she saw him shivering in his t-shirt. 'Go put on a jumper and I'll make you some tea.'_

But now, he was standing in the shower, with the water as hot as he could stand it, trying to find something else to wash. He'd done his hair, and lathered the washcloth until it was a mass of suds, then proceeded to start at his ears and slowly work his way down to his toes.

What ever charm Ginny had used to keep the flat cool, it was working. Very, very well. Harry had taken to sleeping in a set of heavy flannel pajamas he rarely used, and socks on his feet. Ginny let him have the entire quilt, thankfully, so he didn't have to resort to layering on a few jumpers. It was the trip from the warm, steamy bathroom to the bed that was the problem.

Sending up a silent prayer, Harry twisted off the taps, and grabbed the towel he'd put a Warming charm on earlier. He dried everything thoroughly; even using his wand to make sure his hair was dry. He learned the hard way to not leave the bathroom with any part of his body wet. Especially his hair. Harry pulled on the pajamas that also had been hit with a Warming charm, as well as an old jumper and a pair of socks he'd picked up at Gladrags that were charmed to keep the wearer's feet warm. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door, and bolted to the bed, rolling up in the quilt, shivering a bit.

Ginny shook her head. She still thought it was stifling. Harry poked his head out of the quilt long enough to peck her on the cheek before pulling it back over his head. She pushed herself up into something resembling a sitting position. Sleep was not coming easily these days. Ginny found herself staring at the ceiling comparing herself to Molly. Not that Molly was perfect, by any stretch of the imagination in Ginny's opinion, but Ginny wondered how she could ever hope to measure up. She knew she was being silly, but Molly seemed to do everything Mum-related with one hand tied behind her back, both eyes closed, while hopping on one foot.

'Ginny, I can hear your brain spinning.' Harry's voice floated from the depths of the quilt. His head popped out, even more disheveled than usual. He tightened the quilt around his shoulders and sat up. 'What'cha thinking about?'

'What if I mess up?'

'You won't.'

'How do you know?'

'I don't. But I do know that you got to watch two of the best parents around growing up.'

'That's a lot to live up to,' Ginny huffed.

'Ginny, we're going to make mistakes. We're going to say something wrong at some point in this kid's life, or do something that we're going to regret later. It won't make us bad parents. It just makes us parents. We won't be the first to do it and we won't be the last. We'll just try to do our best and try to raise our kid to be the kind of person we'd like him to be.'

Ginny stared at Harry, as if she had never seen him before. 'When did you get so wise?'

'That's what your dad told me last week. I was feeling a little panicky and he sat me down and gave me the Arthur Weasley Guide to Parenting.'

'Which was?'

'That was it.'

'Seriously?'

'Seriously.'

'That's Dad's big parenting advice?'

'Yup. Molly said the same thing.'

Ginny shook her head. 'Mental. The both of them.'

'Makes sense, really. How else do you think they handled the lot of us?'

'Are you saying we were difficult children to raise?' Ginny looked at him with a sinisterly risen eyebrow.

'Does the sun rise in the east?' Harry snorted. 'Between Fred and George pranking every living soul and all the trouble Ron and I got into? You and your temper? And Percy?' Harry regarded Ginny soberly. 'Your dad said the hardest thing he ever did was forgive Percy after the war. But he did it because it was the right thing to do. Because Percy was his son. And he'd never stopped loving Percy, just wasn't overly fond of his choices. And it was important to let Percy know that.' Harry paused, and wormed a hand out from his cocoon of quilts, and squeezed Ginny's. 'That's what good parents do. And that's what we'll try to do with ours.' He reached up to kiss her again. 'Try to get some sleep.'

* * *

'What's it like?' Hermione looked at Ginny in fascination.

'What?'

'Well…' Hermione sort of gestured to Ginny's middle.

'I'm not sure I should tell you,' Ginny mused. 'You might not want to have children.'

'Is it that bad?'

Ginny caressed her stomach. 'No, it's not.' She seemed to look inward. 'It's certainly different. It's uncomfortable as hell. Well, now at any rate. It was all right until about five weeks ago. I don't even recognize my own body anymore. You get scared about now, because there's not a lot of room, and they don't move as much. So you wake them up, to make sure they're okay.' In illustration, she pushed the heel of her palm into the side of her stomach, and was rewarded with a nudge back. 'They sleep, you know.'

'No, I didn't,' Hermione murmured, eyes fixed somewhere above Ginny's navel.

'They can hear, too. If Harry starts talking, Sam starts trying to turn cartwheels.'

'Why do you call it "Sam"?'

Ginny shrugged. 'You have to call it something. Can't keep saying "it" all the time. It's really Sam-I-Am.'

'_Green Eggs and Ham_?' Hermione looked amused.

'Yeah.' Ginny smiled

'Do I want to know?'

'Just something Harry started using one day back in April. Kind of stuck.' Ginny stopped talking for a moment. 'You really get scared when you think of all the possible ways you can screw them up. Or you start having dreams. Weird ones.'

'How weird?'

'I had one last night that Harry got sent to Azkaban and the baby and I ended up in the streets. Or the one where the baby keeps crying and I can't find it. Or I drop it and watch it bounce down the stairs in slow-motion.' Ginny bit her lip. 'Or you just lie awake, staring at the ceiling, trying _not_ to compare yourself to your mother, who does everything better than everyone else.'

'I thought you were looking forward to this?'

'I am!' Ginny said quickly. 'It's just… You worry… Because there's so much that can go wrong. And you just want everything to be perfect.'

'So…' Hermione began. 'Picked any names yet?'

'Bloody hell!' Ginny exclaimed. 'The one thing we haven't done yet.'

'You've got what? Four, five weeks left?'

'Yes,' Ginny sighed.

'That's really not something you want to leave until the last minute,' Hermione chided gently. 'What if Harry fills out the birth certificate while you're sleeping?'

'He did mention wanting to use Albus…' Ginny trailed off thinking.

'Seriously? That's sort of…' Hermione stopped to try and find an appropriate word.

'Either a lot to live up to, or going to get the kid beaten up for his pocket money at school,' Ginny admitted sheepishly.

'Erm… yeah.' Hermione chewed her lip guiltily.

'I guess I should start making a list, then.' Ginny found a sheet of parchment. 'Can you help me weed out anything that screams, "Hey, come beat me up for my pocket money"?'

* * *

'We've forgotten something.' Ginny was sitting on the couch, feet stretched out in front of her.

'No, we haven't.' Harry looked at Ginny askance. 'We've got nappies, more clothes than Sam could ever wear before he grows out of them, toys, teddy bears, enough blankets to smother Buckbeak, that sling thing, a pram even.' Harry ticked each item off on his fingers. 'What else would we need?'

'Names?'

'Oh… Right. Can't really call him Sam-I-Am forever, can we?'

'Uh. No.'

'So?' Harry chewed a thumbnail, thinking. 'I know the firstborn son usually takes the father's name for a middle name, but could we not do that?'

'Sure. I don't see why not. I'm not crazy about saddling a poor little girl with "Ginevra" as one of her names, either.'

Harry's hand rested on Ginny's stomach. 'Maybe we should have done the thing where we find out if it's a girl or a boy. Make this a lot easier.'

'So, we'll do what George and Katie did. Make two lists.'

'Okay.' Harry closed the book he'd been reading, and tossed it on the coffee table. He went to the desk and found some parchment and a useable quill and snagged an old textbook from the bookcase. He sat back down, and balanced the book on his knees. 'Boys or girls first?'

'Girls?'

'Okay.' Harry wrote _Girls_ across the top of the parchment. 'Elizabeth?'

'Grace.'

'Lucy.'

'Really? Lucy?' Ginny's face scrunched in bemusement.

'Okay, no Lucy.' Harry scratched _Lucy_ off the list. 'Daisy?' he suggested. Ginny made a moue of distaste. 'What's wrong with Daisy?'

'Try calling her to dinner from the back garden,' Ginny challenged.

'Daisy Potter! If you don't come in for dinner now, I'm feeding yours to Crookshanks!' Harry mulled how it sounded. 'Yeah, you're right…'

'Amelia.' Harry scrawled the name on the list.

'Eleanor,' he offered.

'Sarah.'

'Emma!' Harry exclaimed brightly.

'You've been reading way too much of that Muggle lady. What's her name? Jane?'

'Jane Austen.'

'Right. Her.'

'What about Jane?' Harry tested the name in his head. 'No, I'll take that one off myself.'

'Caitlin?' Ginny asked.

'Maybe.' Harry scrolled through a few names. 'Iris, Violet, Rose, Camellia…'

'Lily,' Ginny quietly added. Harry's hand tightened on the quill.

'Would you mind?' he asked tentatively. 'I know it's a little sappy to name your kid after its dead grandmother.' Harry fiddled with the quill, leaving a fine spray of droplets of ink on the parchment. 'Okay, it's a lot sappy,' he sighed.

'It's not that sappy. You want them to have some kind of connection to your parents.' Ginny nudged him with a toe. 'I like Lily. Still need a middle name for her, though.'

'What about using Luna or Hermione's name?' Harry asked.

Ginny shook her head. 'I dunno. Luna just doesn't go very well with Lily, and I don't feel like tripping over my own daughter's name when she's done something that needs a fuss and I have to use the full name.'

Harry regarded Ginny thoughtfully, a flash of something darting through his mind. 'What about Nymphadora?' he asked casually.

'But – ' Ginny stuttered.

'Look, I know you love Hermione like a sister, and Luna, too, but Tonks was a friend of yours. It would be a nice way to honor two women who sacrificed so much.'

'That would be nice,' Ginny sniffed.

'Are you crying?'

'It's the hormones,' Ginny said fiercely, daring Harry to contradict her. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and took a deep breath. 'All right, then. That's a girl taken care of – Lily Nymphadora. What about a boy?'

'James Sirius,' Harry answered promptly.

'You haven't thought about that at all, have you?' Ginny asked dryly.

'Just a little bit,' Harry admitted.

'You'd better hope he doesn't live up to his namesakes, then.'

'What's wrong with that?' Harry protested. 'How many fifth-years figure out how to become Animagi?'

'How about the amount of detentions they got?' Ginny fixed Harry with a gimlet eye.

'Jeez. Did Molly sit you down when you were eight and teach you that look? And how do you know about all their detentions?'

'No, but I got lots of examples when she laid it on the twins or Ron. I was a perfect child,' she said smugly, ignoring Harry's snort of disbelief. 'As for the detentions, I got a bunch with Snape my sixth year after trying to break into the Headmaster's office. He made me rewrite all those records for your dad and Sirius.' Ginny raised a censorious eyebrow. 'I'm amazed they managed to finish school. The amount of pranks they pulled. I thought Fred and George had a big file.'

'Yeah, they more than lived up to the name Marauders.' Harry grinned a bit wistfully.

'And if he gets a file close to that size, you will be the one to handle it.' Ginny stretched. 'Oh, one more thing –'

'Don't tell me we've forgotten anything else…' Harry moaned.

'Not really. But I did decide something.'

'What's that?'

'I want you in there, when it's time,' Ginny informed Harry. 'You were there at the beginning. You should be there for the end. Just…' Ginny bit her lip, trying not to laugh.

'What?' Harry was almost afraid.

'Do try not to faint.'

* * *

A/N: Like Ginny would have let him forget fainting. lol!

I realize with all the women who have married into the Weasley family who do have children at this point, that Hermione has been around pregnant women, but I think Ginny's the only one she's close enough to where she can ask about it.

And I found out yesterday that Lily's middle name is in fact Luna (gack, in my humble opinion) but I used Nymphadora in 'Letters' so I wanted to keep it that way. Besides, I like it better. :)


	9. Twenty Minutes and Counting

Ron put the finishing touches on a joint of beef and closed the oven door. He heard the fireplace flare as someone came through it, and went to see who it was. Whoever it was, they were early for lunch. He poked his out of the kitchen and saw Harry turn to help Ginny out of the fireplace.

'Weren't you due on the eighth?' Ron asked Ginny, eyeing her like she might explode at any minute.

'I wish you hadn't said that,' Harry said, but not before Ginny glowered at Ron.

'Yes, Ronald. I _was_ due on the eighth. So, if you can count, today is the twelfth. Four days past,' Ginny all but snarled at Ron.

'Sorry,' Ron gulped, before ducking back into the kitchen. Hermione had warned him Ginny was feeling a bit… grouchy lately. He should have known better, what with Katie spending all that time at the shop before Jacob and Fred were born. But Ron had chalked that up to Katie having twins.

Ginny eased into a chair, batting away Harry's hands, as he tried to help her down into the seat. 'I'm pregnant, you git, not crippled,' she groused. 'I don't need help for every little thing.'

'Never said you did,' Harry replied smoothly.

'Sorry,' Ginny sighed. 'Just getting a little tired of it all. I'm dying to wear knickers that don't come up to here again. To see my feet and not have to check in a mirror to make sure my shoes are a pair. To take an honest to God hot bath,' she moaned, closing her eyes. 'A good slug of Firewhisky after dealing with Flanagan all day.'

'I know.' Harry smoothed the hair from Ginny's forehead.

'Like hell you do,' she replied, but without the heat that laced her response to Ron. 'Next time, _you_ get to do all this.'

'I'll see what I can do.'

In the kitchen, Ron jerked a thumb at the door. 'I wouldn't go out there if I were you,' he told Molly. He sat down at the table and began to prepare a pile of sprouts. 'Ginny's feeling a mite ticked off.'

Molly chuckled a bit. 'You were two weeks late, you know,' she said, pointing her wand at a mountain of carrots. 'I was ready to rip Arthur's head off by the time you were born.' She patted Ron on the hand. 'Don't take it personally, dear.'

Ron watched the sprouts trim themselves for a minute. 'Hermione wants to have one. The more I see all that,' he gestured to the sitting room, 'the more scared I am,' he admitted, biting his lip guiltily.

'Of course it is. It's a lot scary, and you'd be a fool to think otherwise.' Molly examined Ron's bent head. 'Have you talked about this with Hermione?'

Ron shook his head. 'No. I don't want to let her down.'

'Talk to her. You'll let her down if you don't tell her how you feel.' Molly gave Ron a gentle squeeze. 'After lunch, why don't the two of you go talk a walk? Get out of the madhouse for a bit, eh?'

'Thanks, Mum.'

'Anytime, dear.' Molly rose from her chair, and headed to sitting room. 'I'll leave this in your capable hands.' She stopped when she saw Ginny, her feet propped in Harry's lap. Molly used the distraction to get a really good look at Ginny. _Maybe not today, but soon_, she thought. Molly sighed. All her babies were growing up. And soon, there would be a new baby in the family. Molly used the corner of her apron to wipe a tear from her corner of her eye.

'Mum? Are you all right?' Ginny's concerned voice brought Molly back into the room.

'Just seems like yesterday I brought you home. Couldn't believe how tiny you were.'

'Not so tiny now,' Ginny said wryly. 'Just wish it were over.'

'I know how you feel.'

* * *

Hermione let herself in through the back garden gate. Ron always came over early to help Molly prepare dinner, and she either came with him then, or followed later. She could see him in the kitchen window shredding lettuce for a salad. Ron had turned out to be a far better cook than she ever had been. His porridge was never lumpy. She only cooked a meal anymore when Ron wasn't in the mood, or to give him a break.

She opened the kitchen door. 'Hi,' she said.

He looked up from the mound of lettuce. 'Hi.'

'Smells heavenly in here.' Hermione reached in the bowl for a carrot slice.

'It's all right,' Ron said diffidently. 'Kreacher's was better.' He set the bowl aside. 'Can we go for a walk after lunch? Maybe down to the tree house?' Hermione raised an eyebrow. 'To talk,' Ron responded firmly. 'Not like we have to sneak down there anymore.'

'We can talk now,' Hermione said, snatching another carrot slice from the bowl.

'Stop that,' Ron said, lightly slapping the back of Hermione's hand, as it snaked back toward the bowl. 'You'll spoil your lunch.' He looked at Hermione. 'I know I said I wanted to do the baby thing, but I'm really, really scared.'

'Why? I thought you said you wanted to.' Hermione was confused.

'I do! But have you seen Ginny lately? She about took my head off earlier!'

'You mentioned the due date, didn't you?' Ron shrank from Hermione's beady eye.

'Uh, I, uh… Yes.'

'I told you not to do that,' she said.

'I know, but she's so huge! And I think you're scary enough when your knickers are in a bunch about something, and I can only imagine what it'll be like when you're all hormonal!'

'Well, you can relax for a bit longer,' Hermione said in a slightly detached manner. She picked up a knife and began to chop tomatoes by hand.

Ron saw her hand tremble briefly, and watched as she bit her lip. He knew that lip-bite. She was trying to keep from crying. He'd seen her do it often enough in school. 'Mione?' He laid a hand on her wrist. She looked up at him and shook her head. Ron felt a pang of dejection and tugged the knife from her hand, and pulled her closer. 'It'll be okay,' he crooned. 'It will happen.'

'What if it doesn't?'

'It will. We'll just have to be patient.'

'But…' she sniffed.

'I'm an idiot, you know that.'

'Yes, you are.'

Ron put a finger under Hermione's chin and tipped her face up. 'Hey. I promise, _when_ it happens for us, I won't get too mental. I may not be too sure about the whole becoming a dad thing, but it makes me happy to see you happy.' Ron gave a half-laugh. 'I should remember my own advice. When Harry found out Ginny was pregnant, he was terrified. I told him you're never as ready for anything like this as you want to be. I guess we'll be okay.'

'I think I'm going to have to change my opinion about you. Your emotional range is way beyond a teaspoon these days.'

'Thanks, Mione.'

* * *

A few days later, Ginny woke up early. Something didn't feel right. Even if she'd wanted to wake up Harry and tell him, she couldn't put her finger on it. She lay quietly, trying to go back to sleep, when she felt… Something. It wasn't quite a cramp. Ginny set her hands on top of her stomach, waiting. After a while, she felt it again. She turned her head on the pillow, and thought about waking Harry for real, but a glance at the clock told her it was barely six in the morning. Shrugging, Ginny pushed herself to a sitting position and picked up her wristwatch from her bedside table. The last time she'd woken Harry up with pains it had been false labor. She wasn't waking Harry up unless it was for real.

She held the watch in her left hand, her right resting over her navel.

In two hours, she'd only had six more twinges of something. It wasn't painful yet, but Ginny knew it was only a matter of time. She thought maybe she should wake Harry up now, but decided to let him sleep. One of them, at least, needed to rest while they could.

* * *

Harry woke up soon after that. He fumbled for his glasses, pushing them on his nose. 'Morning, Gin,' he yawned.

'Morning,' she said distractedly, as a twinge hit. _Still twenty minutes apart_, she noted to herself.

Harry sat up a bit, noticing the watch in Ginny's hand. 'You okay?'

'Yeah, fine. Just keeping track.'

'Of what?' he asked blankly.

'Labor pains.'

Harry shot out of bed. 'What? Now? Why are you just lying there? Why didn't you wake me earlier?' He tried to put his jeans on and walk at the same time, but just ended up tripping and cracking his head on the wardrobe. 'Ohhhh. Bloody, effing hell that hurt!' He pressed a hand to the throbbing area of his head and glared at Ginny, who was snickering at him. 'It's not that funny.'

'Sure it is.'

'Shouldn't we go to St. Mungo's?'

'It's fine. Shanti told me I didn't have to go until the contractions are around ten minutes apart. So far, they're still twenty minutes apart.' Ginny settled back into her pillows. 'Are you hungry? Why don't you go make yourself some breakfast?' she suggested.

'What about you?' Harry kicked off the jeans.

'I'm not that hungry… Scones! Make some? Please?'

'For you? Anything short of a Hogwarts' feast, love.'

'Maybe we could watch a film or something? While we wait?'

Harry's face split into a grin. 'I think we could do that.'

* * *

Ginny stretched, checked her watch, and slid off the sofa. She leaned over the arm, trying to ease the ache in her back. Harry immediately stood behind her. 'Where does it hurt?'

'Lower back,' she mumbled, hissing in relief, as Harry dug his thumbs into the area just above her hips, trying to remember to breathe through the pain. Ginny tilted her wrist to check the time. 'Still just under twenty minutes.' She straightened up, exhaling slowly, and leaned back against Harry's chest. 'Whew. That was a bit stronger.'

Harry ran the wet cloth over the back of her neck and face. 'Can I get you something? Besides the mad musical films and wet face cloths?'

'Glass of water, maybe?'

'I'll be right back.'

'And I'll be right here. Not really dressed for going out.' Ginny leaned her elbows on the arm of the sofa, and rested her forehead between them. Shanti had warned her it might take more than twenty-four hours. Ginny had hoped she was joking. It was after two in the afternoon now. She would hit the twelve-hour mark in less than four hours.

'Gin?' Harry held out a glass of water. 'Is there something you'd like to do?'

'Would it be too barmy of me to want a bath?'

'Can you do that?'

'Yep. Just don't make it too hot.'

'As you wish.' Harry hurried into the bathroom. He was trying to remember if any of the others had taken this long to get going. He'd been too preoccupied to really notice when the twins had been born almost four months ago. He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling slightly grubby around the edges. 'Hey, Gin?' he called.

'Yeah?'

'Mind if I join you?

'Nope. Just help me in first.'

Harry went back to Ginny. 'Come on, then. It should be full now.' He pulled off Ginny's t-shirt and the boxers she wore under it. He gripped her hands tightly, as she eased herself into the warm bath. Harry shucked his own shirt and boxers off, and slid in the tub, behind Ginny.

Ginny nestled her head on Harry's shoulder. 'You doing okay?' she asked.

'Yeah. Does it always take this long?'

'Sometimes. Bronwyn was in labor for over thirty hours with Isabella.'

'She was?' Harry was confused. They'd been there when Isabella was born.

'Charlie didn't let any of us know until it was a lot closer to being done, silly.' Ginny flicked water at him. 'Bronwyn told me later. Used it as bribe material when Charlie was an idiot. For weeks, all she had to do was mention the thirty hours, and Charlie did whatever she wanted him to.' Ginny giggled.

'That's not very fair,' Harry objected.

'Isabella had Charlie's big head, that's what's not fair,' Ginny retorted. She arched a bit against Harry's hands. They were kneading the muscles in her back again. 'You can keep doing that.'

'Until my hands fall off, right?'

'You got it.' Ginny reached back to stroke the side of Harry's face. 'You should eat something more substantial than scones with strawberry jam, you know. Probably going to be a long night.'

'I will, later. What about you? You haven't eaten since last night at dinner. You've got to be hungry.'

'A bit,' she admitted sheepishly. 'Just nothing heavy.'

'There's leftover soup from last Friday.'

'Perfect.'

'Hey, Ginny?'

'Yeah?'

'This time tomorrow you're going to be someone's mum.'

'This just occurred to you?'

'Well, no. But by this time tomorrow, Sam-I-Am will be James or Lily.'

'Yeah. Our last day alone.'

'I really hope Sam has your hair.'

'So do I. Especially if Sam ends up being a girl. I'd hate to be a girl with your hair.'

'Gee, thanks. I thought you liked my hair.'

'I do. Just not so sure about it on a girl, love.'

Ginny tensed, her hands wrapped around Harry's. 'Ginny, breathe. Deep slow breaths,' he reminded her.

'Yeah,' she panted. 'Seventeen minutes,' she murmured, checking her watch.

It was definitely going to be a long night.

* * *

A/N -- This was supposed to be only one chapter, but oh well... Snuck a little Hr/R in there... :) 


	10. Nessun Dorma

'What time is it?' Ginny asked sleepily. She had been dozing between contractions.

Harry angled his wrist so he could see his watch. 'Six-thirty.'

'You're doing this next time.' Ginny stopped, gasping as the next contraction hit.

'I'll see what I can do,' Harry murmured, biting the inside of his cheek. Ginny had held his right hand in an iron grip he didn't know she possessed. He checked his watch again. 'Eleven minutes. Are you sure we shouldn't go yet?' He was starting to get worried. Thirteen hours of labor was not on his list of fun things to do in Soho in September.

'Yes.' Ginny hissed. 'We'll go when I'm ready.' She tried to stand up and didn't quite make it. 'Help me up, please?' Harry pulled Ginny to her feet. She went into the kitchen, and pulled a carton of orange juice from the refrigerator. Harry heard a splattering sound and turned around, expecting to see a pool of spilled juice on the tiles.

Instead, he saw Ginny, standing open-mouthed, clutching the juice in one hand, staring at a small puddle at her feet. She looked up at Harry, who was standing in the doorway. 'I think,' she said softly, 'we should go now.' She replaced the juice in the refrigerator. She carefully stepped around the liquid on the floor and headed for the bedroom.

'Right.' Harry spun in a circle, and went to grab the bag by the door. 'Oi! What are you doing? The front door is the _other_ way!'

Ginny stopped, and slowly turned around. 'I'm going to change into something dry, for one. And two, I'm _not_ leaving the house dressed in a pair of your old boxers. And I'm going to at least brush my hair,' she explained patiently.

'Is now really the time, Gin?' Harry shifted uneasily from foot to foot, bag in one hand. Ginny's eyes narrowed dangerously and darted around, looking for her wand. 'Or, take all the time you want,' Harry amended hastily, not wanting to show up at St. Mungo's with massive flying bogies attacking him. Ginny spun on her heel, or as well as she could in her current condition, and flounced into the bedroom.

Ginny dug through a basket of clean, but unfolded laundry. It was a bad habit of theirs. Neither one of them liked folding laundry, nor had they ever really mastered the art of using magic to fold it. Ginny privately thought the amount of disinterest they used in trying to cast the charm hindered their level of mastery more than anything else. Maybe once they were buried under those little onesie things and nappies, they might actually be able to successfully cast the charm properly. She found some clean knickers and the stretchy drawstring trousers she seemed to wear constantly before taking time off from the _Prophet_. She perched on the edge of the unmade bed and pushed the soggy boxers to her feet. She managed to pull on the knickers and trousers more or less to their correct place and slid off the bed to brush her hair.

She pulled her hair into a ponytail and grunted as another pain wrapped around her. She drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. 'Oh yeah, he's _so_ doing this next time,' she said as pain subsided. Ginny went into the sitting room, to find Harry sitting on the sofa, the bag at his feet. 'Okay, I'm ready.'

Harry slung the bag over his shoulder and went to the door. Ginny came to stand next to him, and he wrapped his free arm around her shoulder. 'Is now the wrong time to admit I'm more scared now than I was the entire time I was Horcrux hunting?'

'I'd say so.'

'Okay.' He opened the door, and Harry and Ginny left the flat.

On the street level, Harry hailed a taxi. 'Seriously?' Ginny asked incredulously. 'A Muggle taxi?'

'Tell me a better way to get to St. Mungo's without Apparating, which I refuse to do right now, or using the Underground, which I'm not doing with a woman in labor, and I'll do it,' Harry said, opening the door of the taxi that stopped for them. 'Otherwise, just get in.'

Harry directed the taxi driver to the abandoned shop that was the entrance to St. Mungo's. He handed a wad of Muggle money to the driver and pulled his wand out and pointed it at the back of the driver's head. He muttered a quick '_Obliviate_,' and got out the taxi, turning to help Ginny out.

'Did you just _Obliviate_ the driver?'

'Yes,' he sighed, before turning to the mannequin in the ugly green pinafore. 'Maternity, please.'

'Wait,' Ginny said urgently. The hand she'd laid on Harry's arm clamped around it. After several seconds, she released the grip on his arm, and nodded. 'Okay, we can go now.'

Harry turned back to the mannequin. 'Maternity. Now.' The mannequin nodded and Harry pulled Ginny through the glass.

In contrast to the regular reception area of St. Mungo's, this was fairly quiet and the welcome witch was actually welcoming. Ginny went to the desk and greeted the witch. 'Hello. Ginny Potter. I'm Shanti Choudry's patient.'

The witch waved a wand at a filing cabinet and a green folder bearing Ginny's name flew out. 'Come with me,' she said, heading toward the door that led to a few rooms that served the needs of witches who chose to give birth here.

She opened the door of a room, and gestured for Ginny and Harry to go inside. 'Just change into that gown there and Shanti will be here in a few.'

Ginny pulled her clothes off and slid the gown over head. 'We need to call the rest of the family.'

Harry stopped at the door. 'Everybody?' That could take a while.

'Just Mum and Charlie. They're the two biggest gossips in the family. They'll call everyone else.'

'Right.' Harry left and the door swung shut behind him.

Ginny eased herself on the bed. This was really starting to hurt. She leaned back, and hoped Harry would be back soon. She didn't like hospitals at all. Especially after that Christmas Arthur had spent in the Dai Llewellyn ward.

Shanti bustled in, looking efficient in something that looked like Muggle scrubs, and a pair of trainers. 'Not the usual robes, that,' Ginny said.

Shanti laughed. 'Ever tried to deliver a baby in robes? They just get in the way. How are you doing?'

Ginny grimaced. 'Ten minutes apart, water broke, and it hurts like hell.'

'That's fine. Lie back, will you? Just want to check and see how you're doing.' Shanti pulled on a pair of gloves.

'What are you doing?' Ginny asked suspiciously.

'There are some things that you just can't do with magic,' Shanti said smoothly. 'And checking on your progress is one of them.'

'Oh, right. Sorry. Not thinking straight right now.' Ginny closed her eyes. 'Owwwwwwwwwww.'

'Breathe, Ginny,' Shanti murmured soothingly. 'Deep, slow breaths.' As the contraction faded, Shanti quickly examined Ginny. 'You're doing great, Ginny,' she said reassuringly. 'Won't be too much longer.'

'Oh, thank Merlin.' Ginny's head whipped around. Harry stood in the doorway, hope shining on his face. 'How much longer?'

Shanti shrugged. 'A few more hours.' She patted Harry on the arm, before leaving the room. 'I'll check on you again in a bit.'

'Did you call Mum?' Ginny asked anxiously, as Harry came to stand next to her.

'Yeah. She's on her way. Along with everyone else.'

'Of course. Merlin forbid a Weasley undergo a life-altering event without the whole family in attendance.'

'I can ask them to leave, love.'

'No, it's okay. Just keep them out there.' Ginny pointed to the reception area. The sound of Weasleys gathered in one place drifted down the hallway.

'I'll be back in a bit.' Harry leaned over Ginny and kissed her forehead. He left the room, and went toward the reception area. Harry peeked around the doorway to see various Weasleys clustered in groups around the room.

'Harry!' Molly dashed to him. 'How is Ginny? Is everything all right?''

'She's fine.' Harry desperately searched for something to tell the mass of expectant faces. 'It's going to be a few more hours. I'll keep you updated.' He turned to go, but stopped as a hand fell on his shoulder. It was George.

'Can I have a quick word?'

'Sure.'

'She's going to say a lot of stuff. _Ignore it_. She won't remember most of it anyway.'

'And you know this how?'

'Katie called me a bumbling, babbling baboon. Among other things,' George smirked. 'Ginny's probably going to call you worse.'

'And why is that?'

'She grew up with us, of course.'

'Thanks,' Harry said wryly. 'Looking forward to that.' He went back to Ginny, who was sitting up in the bed.

'I need to walk,' Ginny said when he shut the door.

'Walk? Where?'

'Just around the room.' Ginny held on to the bed for support until the contraction was over. 'Can't stand to just sit right now.'

Harry crossed to her, and put an arm around her waist, while she did the same to him. 'Let's go.'

_Eighteen hours of this_, Harry mused. It was nearly midnight. For the past several hours, he had walked Ginny around the room when she didn't want to lie or sit in the bed. Harry stopped walking each time a contraction wrenched her body. He held her up, rubbing her back at times. Others he stood behind her, her hands entwined in his. He gritted his teeth against the pain she caused, crushing his fingers in a death grip. He thought she might have cracked a bone or two in his hand. Once, just after they'd started walking around the room, Harry made the colossal mistake of telling Ginny she was hurting his hand. His ears were still ringing from the screeching.

George had been right. Ginny called him every name she could think of, most of the far worse than a bumbling, babbling baboon, even though that had been high on her list as the contractions grew stronger. She swore he was never to touch her again, and if he so much as thought about wanting to have another one, she would hex him with flying bogies to his… Harry blanched thinking about it.

Shanti came in and out every so often to check Ginny. She made Harry leave the room each time, telling him he'd have a front-row seat soon enough. He leaned tiredly against the wall, rubbing the circulation back into his hands. He understood why George had paced the entire time he was sent out. He hated being outside. He couldn't hear, and he desperately wanted to be with Ginny, not out in this hallway that smelled of antiseptic and Mrs. Scower's Magical Mess Remover.

For the last hour, she had stood, arms wrapped around his waist, her head resting on his chest. She was getting tired, but every time Harry made a move to put her back into bed, she made a growl of protest. So Harry just moved them in a small circle and crooned songs from those mad Muggle films he'd collected. He'd just launched into 'Maria' from _West Side Story_ when Ginny said, 'Harry?'

'Yes, Gin?' They were both a bit husky.

'You can't sing.' Harry laughed into her sweaty hair.

'I know,' he said.

They swayed in silence for a minute, when Ginny spoke up. 'Harry?'

'Yes, Gin?'

'Don't stop.'

Harry kept singing softly to Ginny, every ruddy musical he could think of. From _Guys and Dolls_ to _The Sound of Music_ to _My Fair Lady_. Even some mad American film musical called _Grease_ as the minutes ticked by and the contractions got closer.

Ginny had been ready to push for days. About the only thing that kept her sane at this point was Harry's ragged, slightly off-key singing. She was tired. Tired of being pregnant, tired of being in labor, and just plain tired. She made a mental note to bring up the twenty plus hours of labor when this little one got detention at Hogwarts. Come to think of it, she'd use it on Harry the next time he was a prat.

Shanti came in and made Ginny lie on the bed. 'You ready to push, Ginny?'

_Oh, thank Merlin_, Ginny thought. 'It's about time,' she breathed.

Shanti situated Ginny so she was in a semi-sitting position, back against Harry's chest, knees spread. 'Ready, Gin?' Harry asked, pushing the sweaty red hair off her forehead. Ginny nodded, too worn out to say anything.

'All right, Ginny,' Shanti said, 'when I say "push", push until I tell you to stop, okay?'

'Sure,' she said, a tiny bit of adrenaline snaking through her veins.

'Okay… now… push, Ginny.' Ginny felt like that push lasted for hours, but it was only about ten seconds. She heard someone snarling, and realized the sounds came from her. When Shanti told her to stop, Ginny slumped back against Harry, who just rubbed her back and murmured nonsense into her ear. At least he wasn't acting like some bloody cheerleader, Ginny thought. After several more attempts, Ginny heard Harry ask how she was doing.

'Why don't you try shoving a Bludger from your arse and then we'll see how you're doing?' she barked.

When Harry looked up at Shanti in alarm, she just shook her head slightly and mouthed, 'They _all_ say that!'

Finally, Shanti looked up at them. 'We have a head! Just one more good push, Ginny. It's all downhill from here.'

Ginny drew in a deep breath and nodded, trying to find the strength for one more. 'You can do it, Gin,' Harry whispered in her ear, gently squeezing her hands. She exhaled and pushed.

'It's a boy,' Shanti said. She laid the baby on Ginny. 'Got your wand?' she asked Harry.

'Yeah.' Harry was staring at the baby.

'Severing charm. Right here.' Shanti indicated a spot on the umbilical cord.

'Are you sure?'

'Positive.'

Harry gulped and rested the tip of his wand where Shanti pointed and muttered the charm. Shanti lifted the baby and handed him to a trainee Healer, who began to clean him up. He looked at Ginny, who leaned against him, smiling in elation. The trainee wrapped the baby in a blanket, and placed him in Ginny's arms. 'Do you have a name for him?' Shanti asked.

Harry looked at Ginny. 'Yeah. James Sirius.'

Shanti nodded. 'Well, hello, young James,' she crooned, stroking his cheek with her fingertip. 'Why don't you go tell your family the good news, while we get things settled in here? They can come in for a few minutes, but then the three of you need some rest. All right?'

'Yeah. Brilliant.' Harry said absently, still staring at the baby.

For a few moments, at least, Harry and Ginny simply stared with awe at the small baby, who already had his father's dark untidy hair. 'Oh, poor kid,' Harry whispered, passing his hand over James' head. 'He did end up with my hair.'

Ginny laughed softly. 'Maybe we'll get lucky next time.'

'There's going to be a next time?'

'Completely for James' benefit. Can't have him be an only child, you know.'

Harry eased from behind Ginny. 'I'll go let them know out there.' He walked out of the room, all exhaustion forgotten in the elation of the moment. He stopped outside the door and leaned against the wall. 'Mum? Dad? I have a son,' he whispered, a smile growing on his lips. 'And you have a grandson.' Pushing himself off the wall, Harry proceeded to the reception area. Some of the family had fallen asleep, and a few others were still awake. Harry sat in the chair next to Molly, who was knitting a jumper.

'Oh, Harry, dear. How is it, then?'

Harry grinned at Molly. 'It's a boy. James Sirius Potter. Seven pounds, ten ounces. We're all fine.'

Molly just stared at him for a moment, and then threw her arms around him. 'Can we go see them?' she asked.

'In a minute. Shanti's getting Ginny settled.'

'What was that?' Bill woke up, whispering, so he didn't wake Fleur or the girls.

'Boy,' Harry told him.

'It's a boy?' George looked up from the book he'd been reading.

'Yeah.' Harry thought he was probably grinning like an idiot, but didn't care.

'Ron,' George whispered, shaking Ron's shoulder. 'Wake up.'

'Whaaa?' Ron snorted and came awake. 'What's goin' on?'

'We're uncles!' George said gleefully. 'And we have a lovely nephew we can teach all our tricks to.'

Shanti came to the door, watching for a moment as the news traveled around the sea of people that had been waiting all night for this moment. 'You can come in for a bit of a visit. Then go home. You can come back tomorrow. Mum and Dad here need some rest,' she told them sternly.

Harry led them back into Ginny's room. It was one of the rare occasions the family was quiet. Harry moved to sit next to Ginny on the bed, putting his arms around her. 'This is James.'

Half an hour later, the last of the family had been gently shooed out of the room by Shanti. Harry wearily sat on the edge of Ginny's bed to untie the laces of his trainers. He pulled them off, and let them drop to the floor. With a groan, he settled into the bed, spooning Ginny. She was nearly asleep already. 'Ginny?'

'Hmmmm?'

'Thank you, love. For everything.'

'It was my pleasure.' She reached back and clumsily patted his leg. In another moment she had fallen asleep.

He nestled closer to Ginny. Hovering on the edge of sleep, he heard Luna's voice from the night of the battle, answering the eagle that guarded the door to the Ravenclaw common room. 'A circle that has no beginning,' she had said. At the time, Harry hadn't understood what it meant. He looked at the bundle sleeping in the cradle just beyond the bed.

This wasn't the end of something, or the beginning.

He finally understood, watching his newborn son sleep, the dim light from a table on the other side of the room illuminating his face.

The last thing Harry saw, before he fell asleep, was James's sleeping face, wreathed in the scent of Ginny's hair.

The End.

* * *

A/N: In case you're wondering, James' birthday (in my universe) is September 16th. And Shanti has the voice of Shohreh Aghdashloo. Or that's who I heard when I was writing her. Yes, I know -- Aghdashloo is Iranian, and Shanti's name suggests she's Indian, or of Indian descent, but she has Aghdashloo's voice...

'Nessun dorma' is the title of an aria from the opera 'Turandot'. It means 'no one shall sleep'. :) Appropriate, no?

Thanks to everyone who read this, and was kind enough to leave a review.

I'm still working on 'Questions and Answers', 'Letters,' and 'Burning Down the House'. And I'll probably add a couple of chapters to 'Tree Houses and Daisies'.


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